


Persuade My Heart

by BillieShears, Ravenclawsome



Series: Spy AU [3]
Category: Lovely Little Losers
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, gun use, mild violence, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 69,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5764018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieShears/pseuds/BillieShears, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclawsome/pseuds/Ravenclawsome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Beatrice and Benedick return from their year abroad, they’re expecting to be welcomed back to MESSINA with open arms. But things have changed in their absence, and nothing is the way they remember it. With a new co-leader, a set of ridiculous company rules and an old enemy on the horizon, the new team will have to learn to get along - or die trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For the first time in what felt like years, Freddie Kingston was taking a break.

At least, for the evening. She patted down the skirt of her dress anxiously, glancing around the ballroom where MESSINA employees, family and friends were gathered. (Most had been blindfolded on their way into the building, of course.) 

Many of the guests had no idea that MESSINA was a top secret spy organization (employees were usually instructed to tell family members that it was a tech company) but a few visiting members from friendly spy facilities had come down to congratulate Freddie on all her work. She’d spent a long time talking to each of them about the transformation MESSINA had undergone in the past year, the trials and tribulations they’d overcome, and she was already exhausted. Her new flats were digging at her heels, she kept wishing she could just take them off. 

But overall, she was proud. The ballroom looked lovely, the food was going over well, everything was falling into place just like she had hoped, for once. She’d spent the better part of a year working for this - she had  _ earned _ this. She deserved to be enjoying herself.

“Ready for your speech?” asked a voice from behind her.

“Of course I’m ready,” Freddie said, snagging a whiskey from a passing waiter and downing it in one swift gulp. “I’ve done this a million times, Peter.”

“Then I’ll introduce you,” Peter nodded towards the raised podium at the back of the room, offering her his arm. “Unless…” he eyed the now empty whiskey glass, a bemused look on his face, “you aren’t ready?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Freddie frowned, taking his arm, gripping a little tighter than was entirely necessary. “I’m  _ always  _ prepared, you know that.”

But that didn’t stop her stomach from doing backflips.

It was truly unprecedented, Freddie thought as Peter led her through the crowd, that she should be nervous on a night like this.  _ Her  _ night. She’d worked her ass off through a double major in political science and biology, gone to bed exhausted after three months at Europe’s top spy training facility, survived countless boring interviews and plane rides and background checks, all for this.

She had definitely been through worse. 

They arrived at the foot of the stage. Peter went up first, approaching the podium with notecards in his hand.  _ Amateur move,  _ Freddie thought, as she stepped onto the stage and took her seat.  _ It’s just an introduction Peter, it’s not that difficult.  _  But she kept her mouth shut.

As Peter tapped the mic, alerting many of the guests to his presence, Freddie’s eyes found Kit. He was leaning up against the doorway with a drink in his hand, dressed almost too casually for the occasion, but his smiling eyes were fixed directly at her.

Freddie hoped nobody noticed her blush.

“Employees of MESSINA,” Peter said, and all eyes in the room turned to him. “Friends, family, and honored guests. We welcome you all to this celebration, and thank you for your cooperation in arriving here tonight. Please note that the blindfolds  _ will  _ be used again when you leave, and we apologize in advance for any inconvenience.”

There was polite applause from the crowd, although Freddie spotted several rolled eyes and disgruntled faces. Honestly, if the blindfolds weren’t accompanied by the memory loss chemical their team had cooked up that year, she wouldn’t let anyone in the building without a MESSINA badge.

“But this evening isn’t about me,” Peter continued. “We’re all here to honor the woman sitting behind me.”

Freddie felt her legs shake, she hoped no one could tell…

“Over the past year, Freddie Kingston has become a valuable asset to MESSINA,” Peter said. “Twelve months ago, we were in disarray.”

_ That’s an understatement,  _ Freddie thought, her mind flashing back through the countless hours she’d spent in her office struggling to get the company back on it’s feet.

“But with her help, we’ve not only become stronger, we’ve surpassed all expectations for our organization. She has become an invaluable part of MESSINA, and the work that she has done for us is truly something to be proud of. It’s been an honor to work beside her. So without further ado…”

Freddie wondered if she could even make it to the podium, her legs felt like marshmallows.

“Freddie Kingston!”

And maybe it was the sound of applause, or a quick glance in Kit’s direction, or just the whiskey finally kicking in, but all of a sudden Freddie’s nerves fell away. As she stood up, thanking Peter and taking the podium with both hands, she felt like herself again.

“Hello,” she said, her voice full of confidence. “I’m Freddie Kingston, and it has been my great honor to work alongside Peter Donaldson as MESSINA’s co-leader.”

And for a brief moment, smiling out at the assembled crowd, Freddie felt like she could move mountains.

Then, just in the corner of her eye, Freddie saw the doors to the ballroom burst open.

“GUESS WHO’S BACK?” A man’s voice boomed from the doorway.

“That is NOT the way to make an entrance!” Laughed another voice, a woman this time. Her laughter died down quickly, however.  “Oh… oh my god.”

Freddie whipped her gaze around, as did most of the crowd, her eyes focusing on the two figures standing in the entrance way, now at least with the decency to look sheepish.

“Sorry,” the man said, trying to hold back a grin. “Did we… interrupt something?” 

As her mind clicked into place, Freddie felt the world start to spin out from under her again. She’d seen these faces a million times; in case files, on the desks of her co-workers, hidden under newer pictures on the fridge in the break room. It couldn’t be…

“ _ Beatrice _ ?” Meg gasped from somewhere in the crowd, the glass she was holding slipping out of her hand and clanking to the floor.

“ _ Ben?"  _ Peter’s face was paler than Freddie had ever seen it.

“Um, hi,” Beatrice gave a little wave, looking mortified. She was just like Freddie remembered from pictures; her hair had grown longer, but the sharp, blue eyes were the same.

“What did we miss?” Benedick asked, his eyes darting around the room from the balloons, to the banners, and finally the central podium. “Uh… happy birthday?” 

And it was at that moment that Freddie Kingston felt a boiling hatred build up inside her like nothing she had ever felt before.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well, congratulations. That’s the fastest one of our parties has been shut down since Robbie crashed three years ago.” Peter shook his head, shutting his office door behind them. “I hope you’re proud of yourselves.”

“A little,” Ben grinned, nudging him.

“This isn’t a joke, Ben.” Peter seemed angry, but compared to Freddie, he was downright pleasant. She hadn’t said a word, and she didn’t need to. The glare she was giving them was more than enough.

“C’mon, Pedro,” Beatrice said, “you’re not even a  _ little  _ happy to see us?”

“I go by Peter now, actually – which you’d know, if you kept in touch.” He frowned. “Seriously, Hero’s the only one you could send a postcard to? We were  _ worried _ .”

“Wait, what?” Benedick asked. “Why the name change?”

“Really, Ben?” He scowled. “That’s the question you want answered?”

“You know we couldn’t risk sending mail directly to you, it could’ve been intercepted. We only sent it to Hero because she’s out of the business,” Bea said gently, and Peter’s face softened.

“Of course I’m happy to see you,” he said, sighing. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Well, I for one am  _ not  _ happy to see you,” Freddie spat, finally breaking her icy silence.

“Freddie…” Peter began, but she waved him off.

“No, I understand they’re your friends, but this is unacceptable,” she said briskly, checking her watch, “I’m calling security.”

“What? You’re kicking us out?” Ben’s mouth hung open, “You don’t have the authority to do that, Pedro’s the one in charge!”

“Actually,  _ Peter  _ isn’t the only one in charge anymore,” Freddie said, staring daggers at him. “I’m co-leader now, so I really  _ do _ have the authority to kick you out at any time. Especially for crashing a private party.”

“We’re so sorry about that,” Beatrice insisted, “we just wanted to see everybody, we didn’t know you were all busy. We thought we would surprise you.”

“You certainly did,” Peter grumbled.

“Hey, we were only trying to get into work early!” Benedick grinned, trying to nudge Peter with his elbow again and missing. “You can’t blame us for getting excited about spy work now that we’re back.”

“Hang on,” Freddie looked back and forth between the two of them, confusion on her face, “you two… you think you’re getting rehired?” Bea and Ben stared back in silence, momentarily at a loss for words.

“Freddie…” Peter began.

“No, you cannot be serious,” Freddie put her fingers to her temples in exasperation. “Peter, I know they’re your friends, and _believe_ me I’ve read the case files, but that does not mean I’m going to let a  _ traitor _ and a  _ runaway _ back into this organization!”

“ _ Excuse _ me?” Beatrice’s eyes were wide. “I’m sorry but that is a  _ huge _ oversimplification!”

“Yeah,” Ben jumped in, sounding defensive, “I never betrayed anyone from MESSINA!”

“Are you two serious?” Freddie raised her eyebrows. “You -” she pointed at Beatrice, “left the company with no warning, and  _ you _ ,” she pointed at Ben, “ _ you _ left our organization and joined a rival one. AND if that’s not enough,” she continued, anticipating their protests, “both of your actions led to innumerable problems for MESSINA. Massive overhaul, new hires, and a whole lot of paperwork that fell directly to me. So please, I would  _ love  _ to hear a single good reason why I should rehire you.”

“Because we’re good at our jobs!” Beatrice offered.

“Because we’re Team Blessed!” Benedick said at the same time.

“Not good enough,” Freddie said, shaking her head. “It’s not going to happen.”

“But -”

“That’s all I have to say about it,” she insisted, moving past them towards the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got another one of your messes to clean up.” In the blink of an eye she was out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

“You two should probably go,” Peter advised, glancing at his watch as well.

“Oh come on, Peter!”

“I’ll talk to her,” He said as Bea and Ben rose from their chairs. “I promise we’ll talk it over. She’s just angry that you two interrupted her party.”

“ _ Her  _ party?” Benedick asked, as Peter led them out the door.

“Yeah, she’s worked here for a year,” he said, “and done a lot of good, too.”

“Yeah right,” Ben rolled his eyes, “I’m sure she has.”

“We’re going to get our jobs back, right Ped - sorry,  _ Peter _ ?” Beatrice asked, brow furrowed. “I mean, we never meant to cut you all off, or cause trouble, it was all very…”

“I promise I’ll talk to her,” Peter assured. “For now, you two should just leave.”

“But, Peter…” There was so much Beatrice wanted to say to him, so many questions flying around in her head, but one look at him told her she wasn’t going to get them answered tonight.

“Get some rest,” he said, giving her a weak smile, “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

 

-

 

After the way things were left at the party, neither Bea nor Ben were feeling as triumphant about their return as they would have liked – but the promise of going home to see Hero was enough to keep their spirits lifted.

It was quiet in the car, much quieter than it had been on their way to MESSINA. That drive had been filled with laughter, radio blasting their favorite songs and wild predictions about how things had changed in the year they’d been gone. That atmosphere was gone now. Ben glanced over at Beatrice; her hands resting on the steering wheel, a tired expression on her face.

“What do you think she’ll say?” Benedick asked, nudging Bea as she drove the familiar road to Hero’s house. “You think she’ll faint?”

“Hero? I don’t know,” Beatrice said, noncommittally, “probably not.” He could tell her mind was still back at MESSINA, in the middle of the party they’d accidentally crashed.

“Maybe her garden overtook her house,” he suggested, tugging at her bracelet. “Maybe she’s got her own flower kingdom, and she’s the Queen.”

“Would she have a flower crown?” Beatrice asked, giving in and reaching over to hold his hand.

“The biggest,” Benedick grinned, “The mother of all flower crowns.”

Beatrice smiled back, squeezing his hand. They kept driving in silence, a comfortable one now, until eventually they made the turn into Hero’s driveway.

“Off we go, then?” Ben asked, unbuckling his seatbelt. He tried the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “Bea? The door -”

He turned to Beatrice, only to find that tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

“Whoa, Bea,” Benedick reached over, putting an arm around her, “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I just,” she struggled to find the words, laying her head on his shoulder, “I missed her so much, Ben.”

“I know, love.” 

“ _ So _ much, and I just…” Beatrice took a shaky breath, “Ben, what if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Beatrice,” Benedick’s voice was soft as he brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “that’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that!” Beatrice insisted, wringing her hands. “What if, every time we sent her a postcard, she set it on fire?”

“On  _ fire? _ ” Benedick pulled back, staring at her bemusedly. “Does that sound like Hero to you?”

“I’m just saying -”

“Bea, listen,” Benedick reached for her hands, taking them both in his, “this is something you just have to face sooner or later. Preferably sooner rather than later, because the longer we sit in this driveway, the more Hero will wonder if we’re robbers.”

“ _ Stop _ ,” Beatrice let out a choked giggle, releasing a hand from his grip to wipe her eyes. “You’re right, I know you’re right.”

“That’s a first,” Benedick smiled, reaching over and letting his finger hover over the  _ unlock door _ button. “You ready to do this?”

“Hell yeah,” Beatrice said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go see Hero.”

The car door clicked open.

It didn’t take much coaxing to get Beatrice up to the door. She reached for Ben’s hand as soon as they got out of the car, and squeezed it all the way up to the front porch. She gave the door three sharp knocks, her hand shaking just slightly in his.

They waited. Five seconds… ten seconds…

When the door swung open, it was like entering another world. Light poured out from the kitchen, illuminating the dark yard. The smell of warm brownies permeated the air, filling Ben’s head with memories of summer afternoons spent in the backyard. And standing in the doorway…

“ _ Hero _ !”

Beatrice pushed forward, swiftly burying her cousin in an enormous hug. After only a moment, Hero hugged her back, the two of them intertwined so tightly Benedick doubted they’d ever let each other go. Just as he was beginning to feel uncomfortable standing by himself, Hero opened her eyes, reaching out her hand towards him.

Benedick’s grin became even wider. It was good to be home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for non-violent gun use in this chapter! (target practice.)

Beatrice and Benedick showed up at MESSINA bright and early the next morning. Hero had made them an enormous breakfast, but they’d been too anxious to do more than nibble at their pancakes. They waited outside of Freddie’s office, Ben’s knee bouncing nervously; Beatrice fretfully twisting the hem of her shirt in her hands. Finally, they saw Peter turn the corner, heading towards them.

“Come on in, guys,” He invited, rapping once on Freddie’s door before opening it. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“That’s okay,” Beatrice assured him. She glanced over to where Freddie sat at her desk, fixated with something on her screen. “Morning, Freddie.”

“Good morning,” She gave a curt nod before turning to Peter expectantly. “This is all you, Donaldson.”

“Right!” He sat on the edge of Freddie’s desk, and she pulled a face. “So, Freddie and I were up really late last night talking it over, weighing all the pros and cons, and all that –”

“C’mon, don’t torture us,” Ben said, half-joking and half-pleading, “are you taking us back or not?”

“We are,” Peter confirmed, and both Beatrice and Benedick let out enormous sighs of relief.  “There was a lot to consider, but in the end, we can’t ignore the statistics – the fact is, you were one of the best teams we’ve had here at MESSINA, and we know your skills are an asset to us.”

“Here,” Freddie said, not even attempting to hide her displeasure as she handed a folder over to them, “If you’re going to rejoin MESSINA, you’ll have to fill out the paperwork. Technically, you were officially terminated two weeks after you left. That’s what happens to people who stop showing up to work.”

“Are you kidding? We should still be in the system! We didn’t abandon our job, we… took a sabbatical!” Ben defended.

“Actually, Ben, you left the company even before you and Bea ran away,” Peter said, “The whole John thing? Ditching us to work for my brother’s evil organization? Ring any bells?”

“It was a _mistake_ –”

“Ben,” Beatrice said gently, placing a hand on his knee, “it’s fine. It’s paperwork. It’ll take us ten minutes.”

“And when you’re done with that, I can introduce you to some of the new spies,” Peter said.

“Oh, and I want to say hi to Ursula,” Bea grinned, “I want to tell her about this place we saw when we were in -”

“Uh, Bea,” Peter frowned, “Ursula was promoted eight months ago. She works for the higher ups at headquarters now.”

“Are you serious? That’s amazing!” Bea cried. “She must be so excited!”

“So Ursula’s gone now?” Ben made a face. “She’d rather work for headquarters than stay with her friends?”

“Hey,” Peter shrugged, “you left first.”

 

-

 

Once they’d filled out their paperwork (and Freddie decided it was up to her standards), Peter took Bea and Ben to the gym, where some of the new spies were training.

“Ursula took The Watch with her when she was promoted,” He explained as they made their way down the long hallway, “so now we’ve got Violet and Zeb on that, they’re around here somewhere. Oh, and we’ve got this girl Maria doing PR for us now – last month she saved our asses when Meg almost burnt down a whole city block. I’ll let her tell you the story.”

“The Watch is gone now, too?” Ben pouted.

“They still come by once in a while to say hi.” Peter replied, pushing open the gym doors and leading them inside.

“Babes!” Meg noticed them immediately, and darted across the gym to give Bea a hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Freddie dragged you away so quickly last night I didn’t even get a chance to say hi! It’s so good to see you again, I missed you! How was traveling? Did you get me anything good? Have you seen Hero yet? Did she cry? Did anyone tell you about my mishap involving arson and an entire city block last month?”

“God, you’re so sweaty,” Bea laughed, shoving her away.  “I missed you too! And I have so much to tell you.”

“Hey, Nutmeg,” Ben beamed, opening his arms for a hug, but instead, Meg cuffed him lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey, Benny-Boy,” She replied, offering a halfhearted smile. “Long time no see.”

“So this must be the infamous duo.” A woman with curly hair and sharp features sauntered up to them, giving them an appraising look. Behind her stood a man with glasses and long hair pulled away from his face, his smile a stark contrast to the woman’s suspicious gaze. “ _Signor Mountanto and Lady Disdain_ , right?”

“That’s us,” Ben boasted, clearly proud of the recognition. “What are _your_ codenames?”

“Actually,” Peter interrupted, “we did away with codenames. When Freddie was hired on, she pointed out that they didn’t have any real positive effect, and if anything, they just made the paperwork harder - clarifying which code names where which agents, and all that. It was more efficient to just do away with them.”

“I’m - I’m sorry, _what?_ ” Ben sputtered, “you’ve _gotten rid_ of code names?! Those are half the fun!”

“It’s fine, Ben,” Bea said tightly, before turning and offering her hand for the woman to shake. “You can just call us Bea and Ben.”

“I’m Rosa,” She introduced. “I used to work for an organization in England, and one in Russia before that, and before _that_ I worked for -”

“Rosa is Balthazar’s sister,” Peter cut in, and Bea’s smile widened.

“Oh, I thought you looked familiar! I’ve seen pictures,” She said. “Balth always told the best stories about you!”

“And you are?” Ben asked, turning to the other spy, who seemed content to simply watch Bea and Rosa chatting.

“Kitso Harper,” He smiled and shook Ben’s hand, then Bea’s. “Nice to meet you both.”

“So you must be our replacements,” Ben observed coldly.

“Benedick!” Bea hissed, shooting a warning glance his way.

“Not replacements,” Kit shrugged it off easily, his smile never faltering. “Just new hires.”

“Yeah, if you call being here a full year _new_ ,” Rosa said, a bite in her voice. “You left, there were openings, we filled them. You didn’t think they’d shut the company down just to wait and see if you ever came back, did you?”

“Of course not,” Bea said smoothly, catching Ben’s hand in her own and squeezing it tightly. “I’m actually really excited to meet you. You know, Balthazar mentioned you once did a mission in Wales for like, three weeks? We were there not too long ago, I’d love to talk to you about it sometime.”

“Sure,” Rosa’s hard gaze softened a little, “I’ll come find you after we finish up here. I’ve got this great story about my old partner, Graham –”

“Alright, kittens,” Meg clapped, then placed a hand on Kit and Rosa’s shoulders, steering them away. “We’ve still got thirty minutes to complete. Remember what happened last time Freddie caught us socializing during training? Trust me, we do not want to repeat _that_.”

 

-

 

Kit wasn’t the kind of person who was easily thrown off, but even he’d been shocked by Beatrice and Benedick’s sudden arrival. It certainly wasn’t every day that two missing spies showed up out of nowhere to gate-crash a private party. Freddie had been on the brink of a meltdown since they’d been re-hired, and it was affecting everyone at MESSINA. He knew better than to get in her way when she got like that, so he’d gone down to the gun range to get some extra practice in.

But before Kit even opened the door, he could hear the unmistakable sound of bullets being fired on the other side, despite the soundproofed walls. He pressed the buzzer and waited. After a moment, the sound of gunfire stopped, and the door opened, revealing Beatrice. Her hair was pulled back and she had enormous noise-cancelling headphones hanging around her neck.

“Hey,” She greeted, “it’s Kitso, right?”

“Yeah,” He smiled, “or Kit, if you like. Either works. I’m surprised to see anyone else down here outside of the scheduled training hours.”

“I was feeling kinda rusty,” Bea admitted, as they weaved through the various targets placed around the room, “year away from the sniper, and all that.”

“I’m sure it’ll come back to you in no time,” Kit comforted. “From what I’ve read in those old case files, you’re a pro at this kind of thing. Peter had me study up a lot on you, actually, when they started training me on the sniper.”

“Really?” Beatrice couldn’t help the proud look on her face. She passed her sniper rifle over to him. “You want to take a turn?”

“Sure,” He said, grabbing a pair of headphones for himself, “pick a target.”

“How much of a challenge do you want?” She asked. His smile widened.

“Whatever you want,” he said, “it’s your call.”

Beatrice glanced around the room, searching. Her gaze settled on something small and blue in the corner, and she went over to pick it up. It was a Frisbee, and from the looks of it, it had been shot at before. She grinned, jogging back over to Kit.

“I’ll throw,” She said, “you shoot.”

He nodded, and they both pulled their headphones over their ears. Beatrice took a step back, the Frisbee poised in her hands, and flicked her wrist, sending it sailing across the room.

Kit’s eyes never left the Frisbee. He tracked it through the air, waiting for the exact right moment, and then –

Beatrice whooped with delight as the bullet made contact, splintering the plastic disc into pieces. She clapped him on the back, eyes bright and smile wide.

“That was incredible,” She commended. “You’re a great shot, Kit!”

“I’m alright,” was his modest reply – but he was smiling too, clearly pleased with himself.

“I’m supposed to meet up with Ben so we can grab lunch,” Bea said, glancing at her watch, “but do you want to do some target practice together later?”

“That sounds fun, yeah,” He agreed. “We might need some more Frisbees, though.”

“I’ll bring the Frisbees,” She promised, “you bring that killer aim. It’ll be a party.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He said. “Really cool to meet you, Beatrice. I’m glad you decided to come back.”

“Thanks,” She beamed. “So am I.”

 

-

 

Freddie frowned, watching Bea sitting on Ben’s desk, their heads bent together, the pair of them laughing at something. So far they’d been back at MESSINA for six hours, and they hadn’t so much as asked for an assignment. Their lack of initiative was eating at her - they were going to have the nerve to ruin her party, to demand their jobs back, and then _wait_ to be given a task? As far as Freddie was concerned, they should’ve shown up ready to work - not content to drift from room to room socializing.

Irritated, she grabbed a thick booklet off the shelf and strode over to Ben’s desk.

“I forgot to mention,” She said, not bothering with pleasantries as she dropped it onto the table with a thud, “don’t forget to review the handbook. There have been some changes to the rules since you left.”

From her desk a few feet away, Meg snorted, and Freddie whirled on her.

“Something to say, Winter?”

“‘ _Some_ changes’?” She laughed. “It was a complete overhaul!”

“And is that a _problem_ for you?”

“I didn’t say anything against them,” Meg held her hands up innocently, “Just stating a fact.”

Freddie lingered for a moment, debating whether or not to continue the conversation.

“Right then,” She nodded, turning her attention back to Bea and Ben. “Look it over and familiarize yourself with the rules. I’ll be in my office if you’ve got any questions.”

 

-

 

Once Freddie was safely out of earshot, Meg pulled her chair over to Ben’s desk, rolling her eyes.

“You are gonna _love_ this,” she muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. She flipped open the handbook, skimming the pages until she found what she was looking for. “Check it out. You’re gonna hit the floor.”

 

**RULES AND REGULATIONS FOR THE MESSINA ORGANIZATION**

**_as decreed by Freddie Kingston, co-leader of MESSINA_ **

**1\.  All employees must be out of the office by 11:30pm every night.**

**ADDENDUM: employees in the communication division who have been scheduled an overnight shift are exempt from this rule for the duration of their shift.**

**SECOND ADDENDUM: spies who are granted explicit permission from Freddie Kingston and/or Peter Donaldson may remain past curfew if they are working on a particularly time-sensitive case.**

**2\.  Every Wednesday, all spies will receive an hour after lunch for mandatory team building exercises.**  
**3\. All employees must submit a report summarizing the work they have completed during the week. Reports are due every Friday before curfew.**  
**4\. All cases that take longer than a week to complete will be re-evaluated by Freddie Kingston and/or Peter Donaldson and potentially reassigned at their discretion.**  
**5\. All spies will meet with a nutritionist to work out an acceptable diet to best ensure their health and wellness. Spies will meet with the nutritionist on the last Thursday of every month to track progress/make necessary changes.**  
**6\.  Surveillance will be enforced throughout the building at all times.**  
**7\.  Rules may be changed, added, or removed at the discretion of Freddie Kingston and/or Peter Donaldson. In the event of such an occurrence, and office-wide memo will be sent out. Said rule will be considered enforced/revoked immediately upon sending.**

 

**_Failure to comply with any of the above rules will result in a disciplinary meeting with Freddie Kingston or Peter Donaldson. Further failure to comply will result performance evaluation from Freddie Kingston and Peter Donaldson and a potential termination from the MESSINA organization._ **

 

“ _What?_ ” Beatrice’s head snapped up, staring at Meg in shock. “ _These_ are the new rules? This is ridiculous! This is – this is bullshit!”

“Told you you’d flip,” Meg said.

“So she made these rules and you’re all just… going along with it?” Ben frowned. “I mean, I get the new kids not saying anything if this is the only MESSINA they’ve over known, but Meg, you’ve been here forever! Why didn’t _you_ speak up?”

“I _did_ ,” She assured him, “I threw a fit! But you saw that last part – I already _had_ a ‘disciplinary meeting’ with Freddie. If I don’t keep my head down on this one, I could be fired. And I’m not about to let that happen – not after three years with this place. Where else am I gonna go, _John’s_ org?” She shot a pointed look at Ben.

“Low blow,” He muttered, glancing away.

“Of course not. None of this is on you, Meg. You’re not the one who’s supposed to be the co-leader.” Beatrice stood up, grabbing the handbook, her face set with determination.

“Bea, don’t do anything stupid,” Ben cautioned. “I’m pissed too, but –”

But Beatrice was already storming off towards Peter’s office, pounding against the door. He opened it, bewildered, and she blew right past him before he could even invite her in.

“How could you agree to _any_ of this?” She demanded, slamming down the handbook. “You’re supposed to be working _together_ , aren’t you? It’s like you’re letting her walk all over you!”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” Peter frowned. “Whatever _I_ was doing clearly wasn’t working out. Think about it. In the span of a few months, Hero went rogue and then retired, Ben joined a rival organization, and you abandoned the company.”

“Yeah, but Peter, none of those things were your _fault_ -” Bea began.

“They happened while I was the leader,” Peter said plainly, “of course it was my fault.”

At that, Beatrice seemed to lose all steam. She sank into her chair, her face riddled with a mixture of sympathy and guilt.

“Peter –”

“My job is to keep this organization running, and I failed at that. I’m lucky all the higher-ups did was appoint a co-leader, instead of flat out fire me.” His tone was final. “And besides, whatever Freddie is doing seems to be working. Productivity is up almost thirty percent from last year. I’ll agree that some of the rules are a little… _much_ , but it’s hard to argue with her results.”

“I’m sorry,” Bea murmured, because it was all she could think to say. “Ben and I leaving – I know it was unfair to you.”

Peter shrugged, not meeting her gaze.

“It’s okay.” He said. “I did some unfair things to you, too. Just – try to make it work, with the rules. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, though it pained her to do so. “I’ll try.”


	4. Chapter 4

For Benedick, the week really started to go downhill when he found Rosa Jones sitting at his desk.

“Um, excuse me,” he said, walking right up to her and glaring. “Not to bother you, but I’m pretty sure this is where _I_ sit.”

“Not anymore, Mountanto,” Rosa deadpanned, not even looking up from the report she was reading. “That’s what happens when you betray your company, people give away your shit.”

“Okay, seriously? You weren’t even _here_ when that –” Ben stopped himself, suddenly aware of Kit and Meg eyeing him warily from their own desks. He lowered his voice, eyes steely. “You _literally_ saw me sitting here yesterday.”

“See, I was thinking about that,” She said, pretending to mull it over, “and it occurred to me: why should you get the best desk in the office when _I’ve_ been working my ass off all year and _you’ve_ been on vacation?”

“What did I ever do to you, Rosa?” Ben demanded. “You’re acting like, I don’t know, like I ran over your _dog_ or something! What do you have against me?”

“Mmm, that’s where you’re mistaken, Benedick.” She looked up at him, one eyebrow perfectly arched. “See, the thing is, I don’t care enough about you to hold anything against you. At all. I don’t know you, I don’t _like_ you, and trust me when I tell you: I have never and will never spare a passing thought on you outside of an _actual_ work matter. I’m just stating facts. And you betraying the company? That’s a fact.”

“You are _unbelievable_ ,” Ben sputtered. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so angry, or felt so blindsided. At least when he and Bea used to fight, he knew _why_. “You’ve been a total bitch since I first got here –”

“Oooh, calling me a bitch because I won’t just _hand_ you what you want, that’s a new one,” She rolled her eyes. “Never heard that before.”

“Okay, fine, that was out of line,” He admitted, backing off, “But come on, my name is literally carved into that desk! It has sentimental value!”

“Not my problem,” She said, plugging a pair of headphones into the computer to drown him out, “take it up with someone who cares.”

 

-

 

Beatrice found him exactly where she knew she would.

There was a tiny alcove between one of the vending machines and the wall, just big enough that Benedick could curl his long limbs into it. It was where he’d gone to pout ever since Beatrice decked him so hard in a training session he blacked out for ten seconds, and it was where she always went to look for him when things were going south.

“Hey,” Beatrice smiled down at her crumpled up husband. “Any room for me down there?”

“Doubt it,” Benedick mumbled, but he gave the vending machine a light shove anyway, and Beatrice sat down next to him. She wasn’t at all hidden like he was, but most everyone had gone home already anyway, their curfew imminent.

“Thought you’d be off with Meg somewhere,” Benedick mumbled, picking at his nails absently. “Or that new guy, what’s-his-name.”

“It’s _Kitso_ , and you’d know that if you even tried to talk to him,” Beatrice sighed.

“What am I supposed to say?” Ben retorted. “ _Hi, I’m Ben. You may have heard of me, I joined ARAGON, betrayed all my friends and then disappeared for a year._ Yeah, what a fantastic ice breaker.”

“Ben, you’re making it harder than it is,” Beatrice argued, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice. “If you would just try -”

“It’s different for you,” Ben mumbled. “You’ve got Meg and Pedr- Peter. PETER.” He banged his fist on the vending machine. “I swear I’ll get it right, I swear…”

Bea’s face softened. She hadn’t ever considered it, but he was right. At least _she’d_ left MESSINA on good terms. Ben… well, he hadn’t had the opportunity to explain himself to anyone.

Beatrice reached for his hand, tucking it neatly into hers and scooting closer to him on the floor.

“You can do this,” she said kissing him quickly on the cheek. “You’re a good agent, and a good person. Sooner or later, they’ll see that.”

“And if they don’t?” Ben said quietly, meeting her eyes.

“Hey,” Beatrice smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “You convinced me.”

 

-

 

When Peter willingly approached Ben’s desk the next day, he couldn’t help but get his hopes up. He’d been getting the cold shoulder from him ever since he and Beatrice had returned, and it was starting to wear on him. _How long is he going to be pissed at me?_ He’d complained to Beatrice. _It was a year ago! Isn’t there a statute of limitations on fuckups?_ But Bea had only rolled her eyes: _they have a right to be angry,_ she’d told him. _You have to try and make it up to them._

“Hey, Peter!” He greeted brightly, “What’s up? What’s new? Anything exciting going on?”

“Hey, Ben.” He seemed tired, barely even bothering to glance at him. “Got an assignment for you.”

“Yes!” Ben pumped his fist in the air. “Lay it on me, Bossman. What’s it gonna be? War criminal? Corrupt politician?”

“Not quite,” Peter smirked. “One of the things you missed over the last year was Freddie’s presentation on being earth conscious. Basically, we’re trying to go paperless. We need you to head up to the archives and start scanning old cases so they’re in the computer system, then the hard copies need to be shredded and recycled.”

“Are you kidding?” Ben’s face fell. “But that’s so _boring!_ ”

“Someone’s got to do it,” Peter shrugged. “And you know how it goes – worst jobs always go to the newest spies. It’s always been like that. My first month here, the janitorial staff went on strike, and Leo had me scrubbing toilets until they could renegotiate a contract. At least this is still related to spy work.”

Ben perked up when Peter let out a little laugh, and he smiled gratefully. Peter commiserating with him – well, it was the nicest interaction they’d had since Ben got back, even if it was assigning him a stupid task. If Peter was on his side again, if they could just be _friends_ again… well, then maybe everything else would get a little easier.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” He said, “whatever happened to ARAGON? After we left, I mean.”

Immediately, Ben knew he’d said the wrong thing. Peter’s smile disappeared, replaced by a grimace, his eyes darkening.

“Disappeared,” He said shortly, “John, ARAGON, and any sign of anyone who used to work for him.”

“Really?” Ben knew he shouldn’t push his luck, but he felt like he should tell Peter what had happened. “Because he sent people after Bea and I, when we were in Greece –”

“Look,” Peter snapped, “all I know is, no one has seen him since that day. Not even our parents.”

“But do you think –”

“Better get to those case files, Mountanto,” He said coldly. “They’re not going to shred themselves.”

Peter left, and Ben slumped down in his seat, defeated.

So much for _easier_.

 

-

 

After a few weeks, Benedick was beginning to wonder why he even bothered coming to work anymore.

With everyone avoiding him like the plague, Peter refusing to assign him anything more than paperwork, and Freddie’s awful rules, MESSINA just wasn’t _fun_ anymore. And if he wasn’t enjoying himself, what was left for him there?

But truly, the only thing worse than showing up for work every day would be _not_ showing up. Benedick was going to prove his loyalty to his co-workers no matter how long it took to get the message through their thick skulls. He frowned, sliding his key card through the reader and pushing open the break room door. Calling everyone _thick skulled_ probably wasn’t going to win him any points.

Even the break room had changed in the year they’d been gone. Ben raised his eyebrows at the new ridgid chairs and tables sitting where the worn couches used to be, and the scribbled writing on the wall that had been painted over. His and Bea’s names had to have been written there countless times, and now…

Amazingly, _thankfully_ , the room was empty. Ben wasn’t used to the new bustle of MESSINA’s halls since the organization had grown so much. Frankly, it felt like a home invasion (and Ben knew all about those). He kept catching himself thinking that the new people didn’t really belong, but he grimaced every time the thought entered his head. Would he have gotten anywhere as a spy if higher ups hadn’t given him a chance to prove himself?

Of course, he didn’t think he counted as a “higher up” anymore. Freddie was about three seconds from firing him at any given moment. If only he _liked_ some of the new people, Ben thought, that could get him back in the good graces of the company. Even better, MESSINA might start to feel like home again. But they all seemed the same, just miniature versions of his red headed overlord, ready to pounce on him the second he made a mistake.

“Um, excuse me?”

Ben jumped, turning around to come face to face with a woman he didn’t recognize.

She had big, bright owl eyes, so inquisitive that Benedick felt like she could see straight through him. Her auburn hair was pulled back, revealing cat earrings and a small pin she wore on her shirt collar. All it displayed was the number 9.

“Uh... can I help you?” Benedick stammered, a little put off by her intense gaze.

“You’re Mountanto, right?” the woman asked. “Signor Mountanto?” Ben wished he had the power to disapparate. It was beginning to feel like there was nowhere he could go without starting an argument with someone. He wasn’t at all in the mood to defend the things he’d done a _year ago_ to some new recruit with laser eyes.

“Yeah, okay? That’s me,” Ben said, attempting to sidestep her. “I betrayed MESSINA, sucked up to John for a while and abandoned all of my friends for a year. Happy?”

The woman smiled, grabbing his hand as he tried to get around her and shaking it vigorously.

“I thought that was you!” she beamed. “I’m Chelsey.”

“I - what?”

“You’ve got to come down to my office,” Chelsey said, pulling Benedick out of the break room before he had a chance to react. “We’ve _so_ been wanting to meet you.”

Ben could do nothing but follow her, through halls and doorways and down a flight of stairs, until he was thoroughly lost. Once in awhile they would see a fellow employee who stopped and stared at them as they passed.

“Morning!” Chelsey said, waving brightly, before pulling ahead with Ben in tow.

Finally, just when he thought his arm was about to fall off, they reached a set of steel doors he’d never seen before.

“Close your eyes,” Chelsey instructed, moving towards a keypad and scanner to the right of the door. “Technically, you’re not supposed to be down here.”

“You know, no matter what Kingston tells you, I _am_ an official MESSINA agent,” Ben grumbled, shutting his eyes tight. “I filled out all the paperwork and everything. Three separate times, by the way, because _someone_ wasn’t satisfied the first two.”

“What? Oh, it’s not that,” Chelsey said, as Benedick heard a series of beeps and the scrape of a metal door sliding open. “It’s just that only Freddie and Peter are allowed down here with us. Even Agent Harper doesn’t have access, and well. _You know_.”

“I know what?” Ben asked, as Chelsey pulled him forward, “What are you -”

“Open your eyes!” Chelsey interrupted, excitedly.

He did, and all further questions about Agent Harper were forgotten.

He was standing in a room filled with monitors, easily twice as many as the security room he remembered from before he’d left. There were swivel chairs strewn around, one already occupied, televisions and computer screens mounted anywhere there was open space, and a big wall-sized monitor at the far end of the room. Playing on every screen: the entirety of the MESSINA compound.

“Paige!” Chelsey said excitedly, bopping over to a brunette woman and hugging her shoulders. “Look who I found!”

“Chelsey, you know he can’t be in here!” The woman, Paige, accused; hugging her back all the same.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Chelsey rolled her eyes, planting a kiss on the top of Paige’s head. “He’s a _rebel._ ”

“I’m really not…” Ben muttered, but nobody heard him over the sound of the door squeaking opening again.

“I _asked_ maintenance to fix that door ages ago,” Paige winced, covering her ears. “They said they would do it yesterday.”

“Well I was on zoo duty, so I can tell you they were all playing poker in the staff lounge,” said the woman walking briskly into the room. She was scowling, with dark curly hair pulled into a bun on top of her head and more case files in her arms than Ben thought he’d tackled in his lifetime. She didn’t notice him until they were only a few meters apart, and when she finally looked up at him something changed in her gaze.

“Chelsey,” she asked, slowly, “how did he get in here?”

“Nice to meet you too,” Ben said, holding out his hand. “I’m Benedick Hobbes.” Then, remembering the stack of files she was occupied with, he drew his hand back again.

“I know who you are. I’m Jaquie Manders,” she said, dismissively, turning away. “Chelsey?”

“I thought you’d like to see him!” Chelsey protested. “Come on, you wouldn’t shut up about him yesterday.”

“Jesus, don’t say it like _that_ ,” Jaquie’s scowl returned, and she stared defiantly at Ben. “She _means_ I liked the way you crashed Freddie’s party, Mountanto. Really pissed her off.”

“It really did, didn’t it,” Ben said, smiling wistfully at the memory. “But... well. Can’t say I did it on purpose.”

“I’m just happy _someone_ crashed it,” Jaquie said, moving past Ben to what looked like her desk and dropping the files in a heap. As she stood back up, Benedick noticed she wore the same small “9” pin that Chelsey did. “I would’ve loved to mess with her, but I had zoo duty that night. On the plus side, I had a front row seat to all the action.”

She walked over to the room’s center podium and started fiddling with the keypad. The wall sized monitor blinked and displayed static for a few seconds, and then the giant MESSINA ballroom popped into view.

“I’m sorry, _Zoo_ duty?” Ben asked, his eyes still transfixed by the giant screen. “Surveillance tapes of the whole company? Who are you people?”

“Why, THE NINE WORTHIES, of course!” said a commanding voice from behind him.

Ben whirled around, his fists already in the air. It was only his quick reflexes that stopped him from punching the strange man right in the face.

“My _God_ , man,” Ben lowered his arms, one hand over his heart, trying to calm his rapidly beating pulse, “You can’t sneak up on a spy like that!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” the man said quickly, backing away. “Didn’t mean to startle you!”

“Costa!?” Chelsey said, surprised. “Where did you come from? We didn’t hear the door.”

“He was sleeping back there when I came in,” Paige said, before Costa had the chance. “I didn’t want to wake him.”

“I was at the zoo all night, you know how it is,” Costa said, giving Ben’s arm a gentle, well meaning pat. “Very sorry, again, I can never turn down the opportunity to make a grand entrance! I’m Costa McClure.”

“Benedick Hobbes,” he said, his heart still racing.

“Costa, sit down,” Jaquie sighed, pushing a swivel chair his way. “You too, Mountanto.”

“Uh, just Ben is fine,” Benedick said, choosing a swivel chair between Jaquie and Chelsey and plopping down in it. It squeaked loudly, and he noticed all the wheels were missing.

“Freddie really didn’t tell you about us?” Paige frowned.  

“Of course not, what did you expect?” Jaquie said, wheeling her chair over to Ben’s and sitting down as well. “We always do everything for her, and in response, she treats us like we don’t exist. Hello, we’re the Nine Worthies, welcome to hell.”

“Jaquie!” Costa squeaked, pushing his chair towards the rest of the group. “Where is your _pride?_ ”

“We’re MESSINA’s communications department,” Paige explained. “That’s _supposed_ to be our primary purpose, anyway.”

“Freddie hired us all to take work away from the tech team,” Chelsey continued, “their department was too small for all the responsibilities they were given.”

“But we’re also in charge of running surveillance,” Paige finished.

“And that… that’s a _zoo_ job?” Ben frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s like watching animals in a zoo,” said Costa, gesturing at all the surveillance footage of various team members in their cubicles.

“Ugh,” Jaquie shuddered, “The stupid zoo job is not what I signed up for. It creeps me out!”

“Truly live theater at it’s most _vibrant,_ ” Costa smiled, appreciatively.

“So, wait,” Ben said, still trying to piece everything together. “If you call yourselves the Nine Worthies… why are there only four of you?”

“We’re still recruiting!” Costa said, looking the smallest bit offended. “Fake it til you make it, that’s what I always say. I once ran an entire communications department with nothing more than a broom closet and an old rotary phone, but damned if I didn’t make it work.”  

“Paige and I - we’re married,” Chelsey explained, “we used to hack into people’s phone lines for fun.”

“Then we found out we could make money if we helped companies _avoid_ phone hackers.” Paige finished. “And that’s when Costa found us.”

“I… wow,” Ben said, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of information. “Uh, Jaquie, how did you join these prestigious ranks?”

“Majored in language studies and business,” Jaquie sighed, like she’d told the story a million times, “got accepted to the top two spy training facilities in the world, had to back out of both because my mom got ill. She got better, I got this job to kill time until next fall.”

“You also played rugby,” Paige added.

“I also played rugby,” Jaquie echoed dryly.

“I told her I could get her a job in a spy _facility_ , so at least she could get her foot in the door,” Costa said. “So… that’s our story! Originally we were only in charge of keeping in contact with the spies doing field work, but then…”

“Then Freddie turned us all into glorified security guards by putting us in charge of company-wide surveillance,” Jaquie finished.

They all stared expectantly at Ben. He wondered how often they got a chance to talk to people outside their steely reinforced doors.

“Uh, well my parents were both spies,” he explained. “They knew Pedro’s family -”

“Who’s that?” Paige asked, tilting her head.

“Ped - sorry, Peter,” Ben said, wincing. “Anyway, our parents knew each other, and MESSINA was taking on a bunch of new trainees the year I graduated high school. Peter was getting trained in to be leader at the same time, you know. So I decided uni wasn’t for me, joined training, and here I am.”

“You forgot the part where you went traveling,” Chelsey added, bouncing in her seat.

“ _Chelsey_!” Paige shot her a look. “He doesn’t want to talk about that.”

“No, no, I was just curious!” Chelsey said, looking apologetic. “I mean, a tour around the world sounds lovely, I think. Was it an adventure?”

Ben blinked, surprised. These people, practically _strangers..._ they seemed to know him, to know what he’d done at MESSINA, and yet they still seemed to like him.

Was he - had he just made friends?

“It _was_ an adventure,” he said, smiling at them all. “Best year of my life.”

“Speaking of your life,” Jaquie said, something in the monitor catching her eye, “I think your girlfriend is looking for you.”

“Really?” Ben looked at the screen where Jaquie was pointing. A very small Beatrice was standing by his desk, looking around anxiously.

“Looks like that’s important,” Ben said, rising from his chair, “I’d better go.”

They all looked a little deflated. Chelsey was the first to make a move, bounding up from her chair and engulfing Ben in a hug.

“It was so nice to meet you!” she said, as Paige hurried forward to join the hug.

“I’m glad Chelsey let you in,” she grinned.

“As am I!” Costa said, wrapping his arms around the three of them. “Ben can be our honorary fifth worthy! Until someone else is hired, obviously.”

“I… wow,” Ben was completely overwhelmed, but that didn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face. “You guys - I’m glad I got dragged down here too.”

“Chelsey,” Paige laughed, as the four broke apart, “did you _drag_ him?”

“Only a little!” Chelsey protested as Jaquie approached, reaching forward and shaking Benedick’s hand.

“Good to meet you, Mountanto,” she said. “I’ll open the door.”

“You too. And Ben is fine, really,” he said, as Jaquie moved towards the keypad on the wall. “Especially considering Freddie’s gotten rid of code names...”

“For one half of MESSINA’s greatest duo?” Jaquie smirked, as the door screeched open. “I’ll stick with Mountanto for now.”

“She only does that for people she respects!” Chelsey yelled as Ben walked out into the hallway.

“Chelsey, _come on_ ,” Jaquie sighed.

As the doors squeaked to a close, Ben could hear an aggravated voice shout “You always just call me Costa!”

The grin stayed on his face all the way back to his desk. He couldn’t wait to tell Beatrice- he made _friends._

 

-

 

“ _There_ you are,” Beatrice looked relieved to see him, immediately taking him by the arm. “Where have you been? We’ve got team building today, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Ben allowed himself to be led away, back the same way he’d just come from. He’d been so caught up in meeting the Worthies, he’d genuinely forgotten.

“Where did you disappear off to, anyway?”

The words tumbled out of him a mile a minute, he was so excited. He told her all about the Worthies, how they’d immediately accepted him and made him feel so welcome. (“Hold on,” Bea frowned, confused, “if there’s only four, why are they called the _Nine_ Worthies?”) Bea’s smile grew wider and wider as he talked, clearly happy for him.

“See?” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, just before they entered the gym. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you started making friends.”

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Freddie’s voice carried through the gym – everyone else was already present and accounted for, some of them stretching idly, some of them just looking bored. Bea and Ben crossed the room to join the line-up, and Freddie clapped her hands together once, standing before them. “So! It’s time for our weekly team building. As you all know, it can get a little stressful during the work week, so I think it’s important to make a little time to cut loose and have fun.”

“Yeah,” Ben whispered, “nothing says _fun_ like meticulously scheduled activities.”

Bea snorted, and Freddie shot a pointed look her way.

“Sorry,” She said quickly.

“You make this speech every week,” Rosa complained. “Is this really necessary?”

“Fine,” Freddie said tightly, clearly trying to keep her cool. “This week’s team challenge: obstacle course. We’ll be breaking off into teams of two and running time trials – whoever can get through it the quickest wins, whoever comes in last has to take fifty laps.”

“What’s the prize for winning?” Ben asked. Freddie’s fists clenched at her sides.

“Respect,” She said. “Now, obviously there’s an odd number of us, so Peter will run the course once with one of you first, and then again at the end with me. Got it? Everybody pair off.”

“Hey, Bea,” Peter called, “partners?”

“Sure, if you think you can keep up,” She grinned, then turned to Ben. “Do you mind?”

A day ago, he might’ve. For weeks now, it had felt like Beatrice was his only ally at MESSINA. But he was feeling emboldened after meeting the Worthies, still flying high on the promise of new friends.

“Go for it,” He urged, and Beatrice gave his hand a quick squeeze before she jogged over to Peter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rosa approach Meg, the pair of them teaming up, leaving him with only one option. He grinned, strolling over to Kit. “Hey! Feel like partnering up, really show these clowns a thing or two?”

Kit’s smile came so easily, it made Ben wonder why he hadn’t tried to befriend him sooner.

“Sounds like a plan,” He said, bumping his fist against Ben’s.

“Okay, first up, Peter and Beatrice,” Freddie announced, holding up the stopwatch hanging around her neck. “On your marks… get set… go!”

“Scenario,” Ben dropped his voice, leaning in conspiratorially, “It’s the Hunger Games. We’re down to the final two. Who wins? Freddie or Rosa?”

Kit laughed, throwing his head back.

“Oh man,” He said, “that’s a tough one, but my money is on Freddie.”

“Really? I don’t know,” Ben looked skeptical. “Maybe they’d both kill each other at the same time and the whole system would just implode.”

“Okay, I’ve got one for you,” Kit said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Triwizard Tournament – Peter, Meg, or Beatrice?”

“Don’t tell Bea I said this,” Ben glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, “…but Peter.”

“Brutal!” Kit cried. “Choosing your boss over your lady love. That’s savage, man.”

“No, hear me out! She’d dominate the dragon challenge, but she’s way too impatient to take the time to figure out that egg. And she’d get so frustrated in the maze she’d wind up rage quitting.” He paused, taking in Kit’s amused look. “I’m serious, do _not_ tell her I said that. You’re sworn to secrecy.”

“My lips are sealed,” He vowed, miming zipping them closed.

“Kitso! Benedick!” Freddie barked. “You’re up!”

From the moment she said ‘go’, it was a disaster – Ben tripped immediately, and Kitso practically fell over giggling, trying to help him back up. Then they got tangled in the ropes course, and Ben could hear Beatrice laughing, which only set him and Kit off into another giggle fit as well. They even got a chuckle out of Freddie at the end, when Kit started to fall off a slack line and Ben caught him bridal style, successfully holding him for a second or two before his knees buckled beneath him.

In the end, it took them twelve and a half minutes to get through the course, which wound up being the longest by a whole eight minutes (Meg and Rosa won, beating Bea and Peter by six seconds). But Ben didn’t even mind the fifty laps they had to take as punishment. For the first time in a long time, he was happy to be at MESSINA.


	5. Chapter 5

After the first few weeks back with the company, Rosa and Bea started eating lunch together daily. It wasn’t pre-planned, it just sort of… happened. Sometimes others would join them – usually Meg or Kit, or sometimes Balthazar would wander over from his department to spend some time with them, but it was always at least Beatrice and Rosa, every day.

Bea knew some people at MESSINA weren’t impressed by Rosa’s stories from her time and travels with other organizations, or that they thought she was a little much – Benedick, especially, could always be caught rolling his eyes behind her back when she started telling a new story. But she was fascinated by Rosa, and by her stories. She and Ben had traveled, yes, but she had only ever _worked_ for MESSINA. She loved hearing about how other organizations functioned – what they did differently, what they did _better_ , how they held up compared to this one. And Rosa was happy to talk to her, clearly pleased to have a captive audience.

“I mean, Freddie runs a tight ship and all,” Rosa said, in between munching on carrot sticks in their tiny break room, “but she’s nothing compared to the Russian organization I used to work at. She’s a girl scout compared to my old boss.”

“So why _do_ you keep transferring, Rosa?” Ben asked snidely, propped against one of the vending machines. “Or is that you keep getting thrown out?” Beatrice cringed - no matter how many times she tried to talk some sense into Ben, she couldn’t get him to come around to Rosa. She pushed his buttons in a way that none of the others seemed to; her very presence set him on edge.

“Real nice, Benedick.” Rosa’s voice was filled with mock sweetness. “I transferred here because my brother practically begged me to. This place went from a full staff to like, one and a half spies. Hm, wonder why that was?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ben snapped, “you don’t even –”

“Ben,” Bea’s tone was a warning in itself. She locked eyes with him, and his shoulders sank. “Maybe you should take a walk.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, turning to go.

“Hey,” she caught his hand before he could leave, and tapped at the bracelet around his wrist. “Love you. Okay?”

The anger in Ben’s face gave way to something that looked more like exhaustion, and he offered Bea a weary smile.

“Love you too,” He said, and he turned to go.

“What was that about?” Rosa quirked her brow.

“It’s nothing, it’s just… He’s having a hard time adjusting. I mean, we both are, in our own ways. But it’s fine, we’ll be fine.” Beatrice waved it off dismissively. “Anyway, I have so many more questions about your orgs. Like… what’s something you’ve only ever seen one organization do that you wish more did?”

“Oooh, good question.” Rosa thought for a moment, drumming her fingers on the table. “Oh! Okay. So when I was at my organization in Iceland, it was actually split into two separate facilities who worked together. Like, there was a liaison between the two, and we’d all have these weekly meetings to go over cases and things, and it was really cool.”

“And that wasn’t an issue for anyone?” Bea seemed surprised. “It seems like there would be a lot of butting heads between the two companies.”

“It worked really well, actually,” Rosa said, “We knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses, what sort of cases we did best with and that sort of thing. I think having some separation made the organization stronger as a whole.”

“Huh,” Bea sat back in her chair, her mind starting to whirl.

“But have I told you about the time I was in Italy, and we were searching for these stolen jewels? So my partner Graham and I…”

 

-

 

Ben had the break room to himself. Technically, he wasn’t done with Freddie’s latest task for him (faxing a month’s worth of reports to headquarters), but if he didn’t get away from that decrepit fax machine for a few minutes, he was afraid he might do something drastic.

“Oh,” Meg paused in the doorway, a look of uncertainty crossing her features, “hey.”

“Hey,” He greeted, trying not to show how hurt he felt when Meg sat a few tables away. He could hear Beatrice’s words ringing in his head: _they have a right to be angry_.

Meg pulled a few containers of Tupperware from her bag, setting it out on the table in front of her. She grimaced as she reached for a thermos, pouring something that looked like sludge into her cup.

“Your lunch looks…” Ben trailed off, wincing at the smell. “Green.”

“Ugh, I _know_ ,” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s a broccoli-kale smoothie or something? The nutritionist Freddie hired makes me drink them. It wouldn’t be _so_ bad if it wasn’t _every single day_.”

“I snuck in a chocolate bar,” Ben offered, reaching into his own bag, “we can share, if you want.”

Meg eyed the chocolate bar in his hands hungrily, and her stomach grumbled.

“Yes, _please_ ,” She said, reaching for it gratefully.

She split it in two, passing him half and pushing her nutritional smoothie aside. Ben wanted to take the seat next to her, but he hesitated. If Meg didn’t want him there…

“Sit down, Hobbes,” she said, pushing a chair out with her foot as she took a big bite of the chocolate bar, “ _god_ , this is delicious. Where did you get this?”

“Cairo,” he replied, taking a bite of his own half.

“Oh,” Meg pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything else. Benedick silently kicked himself, five seconds into a conversation and already he was making things awkward. Couldn’t he last an entire minute without mentioning his damn trip around the world?

But then again, it was his _life_ , had been his life for the past year, it was hard not to talk about it. All year he’d taken pictures, collected stories, anticipating his triumphant return home. He was itching to tell his friends everything, like the time he’d outrun the New York mob, or the time when Beatrice was pick-pocketed and spent the whole day tracking down the person who did it, despite the stolen wallet containing nothing more than a photo of herself sandwiched between Ben and Hero.

But nobody wanted to listen, and he couldn’t really blame them.

“Meg… I’m sorry,” he said, staring down at his chocolate. “Everything going down the way it did… I never meant for that to happen. We were just trying to find the safest way to be together. Escaping the country seemed like a better solution than, I don’t know, some kind of Romeo and Juliet thing?” Meg nodded thoughtfully, but Ben was on a roll. “And we really didn’t have a plan, we just took off, and so much was going on I kind of just… let other things slip by. It was stupid, I should have—”

“Ben,” Meg interrupted, putting her hand up to stop him, “I’m not mad at you.”

Benedick blinked.

“You… what?”

“I’m not mad at you,” she repeated, taking another bite of chocolate, “I’m mad at Ben from a year ago for taking off without saying goodbye.”

“Oh,” Ben thought about it, “that… still kind of sounds like you’re mad at me.”

She laughed, covering her mouth.

“Okay,” she admitted, “so I’m a _little_ mad at you. I was the last one at MESSINA who saw you two before you disappeared, do you know how much paperwork I had to fill out because of that?”

“I’m… sorry,” Ben said, feebly. He had an idea of how much, he’d been faxing paperwork all morning.

“Yeah,” Meg continued, finishing off her chocolate and tossing the wrapper neatly into the trash, “that sucked. When you asked her to run away with you, I thought you meant, you know, _briefly_. Not around the goddamn globe.”

Ben stared down at his hands, his appetite for chocolate gone.

“But you said you’re sorry, and that’s what counts, so my anger will pass,” Meg finished, leaning back in her chair.

“Really?” Ben’s head shot up, and he looked at her incredulously.

“Yeah, Benny boy,” she grinned, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder, “it’s good to have you back. Of course…” her look turned serious, and she stared mischievously into his eyes, “you understand that I’ll always love Beatrice more, right? That’s non-negotiable.”

“I swear to god, Meg,” Benedick shook his head, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “I’ll never understand what you see in her.”

 

-

 

It had taken all of Bea’s willpower not to immediately run and tell Ben her idea while they were still at work – she’d kept it to herself all day, waiting until they’d gotten home. Hero had gone to bed already, but she’d left dinner waiting for them, as she always did. Ben had barely put it back in the oven to warm it up when Beatrice sprang it on him. But instead of being excited for her, or even at least just _interested_ , he’d reacted like she’d spit in his face.

“I’m sorry, _what?_ ” Ben gaped at her. “You want to ditch MESSINA to start up an entirely new organization? I mean, _why?_ Where is this even coming from? We _just_ rejoined!”

“I know we did, Ben, I was _there_ ,” She said impatiently. “But it’s a different place now. You of all people know that.”

“Well, yeah,” He agreed, “it is, but that doesn’t mean we can just bail on them! Not after all the shit they’ve given us for leaving the first time.  Besides, I’m finally…” He trailed off, eyes falling to the floor.

“Finally what?” Beatrice prompted.

“Making friends,” He said, looking embarrassed. “I finally feel like I’m getting along with everyone – or _almost_ everyone, anyway – and you’re telling me you want us to _leave?_ ”

“I’m not saying we should totally break away from them,” Bea sighed. “I’m saying I want to start up a sister organization. We’d work in tandem; it’d still be a partnership. We just wouldn’t have to deal with Freddie or her stupid rules. We can _change_ the things we don’t like, instead of constantly being afraid of putting a toe out of line and losing our jobs.”

“The rules aren’t _that_ bad,” Ben hedged. Beatrice stared at him, incredulous. “Okay, fine, some of them are a little ridiculous. But it’s nothing we can’t handle!”

“So just because we _can_ live that way, we _should_?” She argued, “That’s stupid, Ben. I can live without electricity, but I wouldn’t want to, because it would make simple things harder.”

“Beatrice,” He said firmly, “I’m not going to leave the company.”

“You don’t have to! I’m not _asking_ you to! I am _telling_ you that it’s what I want to do.” She exhaled slowly, trying to keep calm.

“So you’re just going to turn your back –”

“I am _not_! Turning my _back_! On _anyone_!” She shouted, exasperated, “I’m not talking about _quitting_ MESSINA, I’m talking about expanding the company!”

“You can’t be serious. You decide you don’t like a couple little things, so you’re just going up and leave? MESSINA is the _whole reason_ we came back!”

“We came back because we hadn’t seen our friends and family in over a year! We came back to make sure everything was okay! Look around, Ben – they’re fine! They did fine without us!” She took a deep breath, rubbing at her temples. “I came back because we missed doing something meaningful, something where I thought I was making a difference, having some kind of positive impact! But all we’ve done is file paperwork and fight with our bosses! Whatever _this_ MESSINA is, I don’t recognize it anymore. And  I don’t like it. And I’m not just going to stick about because it _used_ to make me happy.”

“Everything okay?” Hero poked her head in, concern all over her face. “I heard shouting.”

“We didn’t mean to wake you,” Bea apologized, “sorry. We’re fine. You should go back to bed.”

“Alright,” Hero said hesitantly, eyeing the pair of them, “if you’re sure. Goodnight, then.”

They sat in silence as they watched her go, waiting until they heard her bedroom door close before either of them spoke again.

“Look,” Ben said wearily, “clearly we’re not going to get anywhere with this tonight. Let’s just shelve this for now.”

“Fine,” Bea relented, clearly fatigued from their argument, “we’ll talk about it later. I’m going to bed.”

“Hey,” he caught her arm before she could go, and ran his thumb across her bracelet. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” she gave him a weak smile. “I love you too.”

 

-

 

They barely spoke in the car on the way to work the next morning. Ben rested his hand on Bea’s knee the whole ride, and she wound her fingers with his, same as they did every morning – but something was different. Strained.

When they pulled into the parking lot, Ben turned to her.

“I’m sorry I yelled.”

“Me too,” She said, relief washing over her, “I didn’t mean for it to turn into a fight.”

“Me either,” He smiled hopefully. “So… motion to strike that whole argument from the record?”

Bea stopped short, relief turning to confusion.

“I thought you were apologizing,” She said.

“I am,” He said, face falling, “I did.”

“You’re saying you want to pretend it didn’t happen,” She corrected, pulling her hand away from his. “That’s different.”

“I thought we agreed to move on from it last night,” he said.

“No,” She said slowly, “we agreed to put a pin it and come back to it later because we were both exhausted and weren’t getting anywhere with the conversation. Ben, you can’t just make this disappear because you don’t want to deal with it. That’s not how relationships work.”

“Beatrice, please, I don’t want to fight with you.”

“There’s an easy solution there, Ben,” She huffed, “it’s called being supportive. If you want to stay here, that’s fine by me, but I’m not happy here and I’m going to change that.”

“So why can’t we work to change it from the inside?” He asked. “Why do you have to _leave_ to change it?”

“We’re not doing this now.” She opened the door and exited the car, throwing her bag over her shoulder. “We’re going to be late, and lord knows I can’t deal with a lecture from Freddie right now. Let’s just be professional, get through the day, and talk about it when we get home.”

“Beatrice –”

“I’ll see you inside,” She said, and she slammed the car door shut.

 

-

 

You didn’t have to be a highly trained spy to see that something was bothering Beatrice when she walked in. Meg had known her for years, and could usually determine Bea’s mood within the first thirty seconds of seeing her. So before she could even sit down at her desk, Meg grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

“What’s up, buttercup?” She asked. Bea didn’t bothering lying or pretending not to know what Meg was talking about – if anything, she seemed grateful for the interception.

“Ben and I are fighting,” she told her. “It’s so awful, Meg. We haven’t fought like this since…”

“Since he bailed to join John’s org?” She guessed, and Bea nodded. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just... this whole past year when we were traveling, it was like we were in this little bubble. And now that we’re back here… well, it’s not just the two of us anymore. The bubble burst. And we didn’t really have any time to adjust to that. There wasn’t any in between, or time to get used to it.” Beatrice slumped against Meg’s shoulder, and Meg pet her head gently.

“What’s the fight about?” She asked.

“I said I wanted to start up a new organization,” She explained, “one that’s run differently, but works in partnership with MESSINA. I told Ben, and he absolutely flipped – he accused me of bailing on the company again, and turning my back on everyone here.”

“Are you serious?” Meg’s eyes widened, her whole face lighting up. “A new org? That would be amazing!”

“ _Thank_ you!” Bea cried. “See? You get it!”

“No joke, Bea, I’ll totally go in on this with you,” Meg said. “We could do it together! How amazing would that be?”

“Really?” Bea felt her heart swell. With Meg on her side, it didn’t feel like wishful thinking anymore, or fruitless dreaming – suddenly, it all felt so _possible_. “You would?”

“Of course I would,” Meg said seriously. “Freddie’s done some good things here and all, but MESSINA has turned into a total dictatorship. This might be the wakeup call this place needs.”

“And it’s not like I want to work _against_ Freddie,” Bea said, “We’d all still be working together, working towards the same goals – we’d just be going about it different ways.”

“Right,” Meg nodded in agreement. “I totally get it. And I’m in.”

Bea threw her arms around Meg, thankful and relieved.

“I knew I could count on you,” she said appreciatively.

“Always, babe.” Meg squeezed her tightly. “I’ve always got your back.”


	6. Chapter 6

Freddie was snuggled tightly in Kit’s arms, smiling gently as she traced the line of his cheek with her thumb. Kit had been waking up this way most days for the last few months, but it never stopped feeling new and wonderful to him.  

“What time is it?” Freddie asked, voice groggy with sleep.

“I don’t know,” He grinned, glancing around at the clock. “2:30?”

“Oh my god,” Freddie couldn’t hold back giggles, rolling over onto him and pressing a kiss to his lips. “That’s so early.”

“It could be earlier,” Kit shrugged. “Should be fine, as long as we don’t show up late for work.”

“I’ve never been late to work a day in my life, Agent Harper,” Freddie smiled at him mischievously. “Don’t think I’ll make an exception for you.”

She leaned in to kiss him again, and Kit felt a wave of happiness rush through him. Freddie was so _important_ , so familiar and warm in his arms. Her bangs brushed gently against his forehead, and as she leaned back to take a breath Kit felt the words he’d been holding in for so long slip out of him.

“I _love_ you.”

The minute he said it, he knew something was wrong. Freddie had gone completely still, her arms frozen in place and her eyes wide and staring.

_Shit._

“Freddie, I -” He reached for her, but she was already pulling away.

“I really can’t be late tomorrow,” she said, pulling the blankets around her shoulders and grabbing her phone off the bedside table. “Peter and I have to coordinate our schedules for the week, Monday’s are always so busy -”

“Freds, I’m sorry.”

It’s fine,” she said quickly, and Kit could already feel her walls rising up. “I just… it’s late.”

“Freddie…”

But she had already turned away, her phone back on the table with an alarm set. Kit stretched for something, _anything_ to tell her. He hadn’t meant to say it yet, he’d been waiting until he knew it was something she wanted to hear. But he’d just been so _tired_ , and after all this time there was some part of him that hoped…

“Night, Kit,” she whispered, but it did nothing to fill the empty space building in his stomach. All those late nights working in the office, all those stolen kisses... after all of that, had he just ruined everything?

“Night,” he said, still gazing at the back of her head. He wanted her to turn around, to say something that would let him know he hadn’t just messed everything up. But as the minutes ticked away, and his eyelids became heavy, he realized that was the last thing in the world she would ever do.

When Kit woke up the next morning, Freddie was already gone.

 

-

 

Ben wanted to apologize to Peter, he really did, but that didn’t make the idea any less nerve wracking. Benedick hated confrontation. He always wound up saying the wrong thing, and then there was no backing out. It wasn’t like a text or email, where you could delete sentences that sound right in your head but turn out poorly on paper. Sometimes he wished his life could be like a movie, where he could just cut and edit his conversations until they were perfect. Actually, why stop there? He could edit his entire life.

He was probably overthinking it, all he had to do was apologize. He’d known Ped - _Peter_ for years, he wasn’t that difficult to talk to.

Honestly, Ben just wished he could run all his thoughts past somebody, get all the worries out of his head. But Hero was out of the house for the weekend, and Beatrice… god, he didn’t even know what was happening between the two of them anymore.

How could she want to leave MESSINA? He’d done it once before, and he’d always regretted it, so why wouldn’t she listen? Yes, MESSINA had its problems, but there were other things to consider. What about their friends? What about their partnership?

How could she want to leave _him_?

Benedick didn’t want to bring it up again with her; it would just lead to more fighting and he couldn’t take it anymore. Every argument he had with Beatrice made him feel like someone was chiseling pieces out of his heart.

If he could just talk to Peter, if he could get things closer to the way they used to be… maybe everything would get better.

When he and Beatrice got in the car on Monday morning, it was with the same silence they’d been sharing all weekend. Ben moved automatically to put his hand on her knee, but he held back, not sure what to do. Beatrice noticed, biting her lip before reaching for his hand anyway, lacing her fingers through his and letting them rest on her knee.

“Hey,” she said quietly, “I kind of hate not talking to you.”

Benedick breathed a sigh of relief, gently kissing the back of her hand as he felt the ball of stress inside him unwind, just a little.

“Me too.” He said, running his thumb along her bracelet.

“But I haven’t changed my mind,” she warned, as they began to pull out of the driveway. “Just… just so you know.”

“No, I know.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence, Benedick holding her hand for dear life.

 

-

 

_“I love you.”_

The words refused to leave Freddie’s head, they churned and twisted their way through every part of her brain. Love. _Love._

Why did he have to say it? Suddenly the whole thing felt weighty, serious, like something that had to be planned. Normally she _loved_ to plan, but Kit was different. Freddie relished in the fact that things with him were so simple, that she could just kiss him and care for him and hold him, without pressure or expectation.

At least… that’s what she’d thought. Now things were all messed up, and she couldn’t get her head around it.

It wasn’t that Kit wasn’t important to her - he was. He was _so_ important to her, probably the _most_ important to her, and that was exactly the problem.

She hadn’t planned for it to be that way. She had a different idea for her life: School, Business, Politics. _Don’t be like your mother was, Freddie,_ her grandmother used to say. _Know where you’re going in life, and don’t let anything stop you._

And look where that advice had gotten her; sneaking off to work at five in the morning to avoid her boyfriend. Holding back tears as she pulled into her designated parking space. Letting them all out while she ate a breakfast burrito alone in her office.

It had been a long morning.

Freddie glanced up at the clock – 8:30. People would be showing up to work by now, _Kit_ would be showing up, and as much as she wanted to hide in her office all day, she knew it would be impractical.

 _You’re the boss Freddie_. She thought, brushing crumbs off her skirt. _Okay, CO-boss._

_Whatever. The point is, you’re in charge._

Slowly, carefully, she cracked open her office door. Everything was still quiet in the hallway, but she could hear distant voices and the sound of metal doors sliding open and closed. The work day was starting.

Freddie grabbed her coffee thermos off a side table, quietly slipping out of her office. Yes, she was going to have to see Kit at some point that day, but she wasn’t going to panic. She was going to do exactly what she’d been doing for six and a half months: treat him like any other MESSINA employee.

She started down the stairs towards the hub, internally grumbling about her office location. Peter’s office was down by the others, close to the snack machines and all the important MESSINA facilities, but there hadn’t been any room for her down there. She’d had to make a call; accept a small office downstairs or a big one farther away. She had to admit, it was nice to have a space she knew she could go to be alone, but sometimes the negatives outweighed the perks. Still, she was close to the case file archives, there was a bathroom at the end of the hall that nobody ever used except her, and sometimes it felt good to be above everybody else. _Kingly_ , Kit had joked one time.

She was rounding the corner towards the break room, spinning the lid off her thermos and taking a whiff of the warm coffee inside, when she heard voices from the open break room door.

“- thinking about starting a new org.”

Freddie almost tripped, her coffee sloshing around and threatening to spill down her shirt. She caught herself, looking around the hallway to make sure nobody had seen her.

“A new org?” Freddie’s breath caught in her throat, that was _Kit’s_ voice. “What, like ARAGON?”

“No!” Meg laughed. “Like a sister facility. Rosa was telling us all about it, we would be working together, not against each other.”

“Huh. That’s interesting.”

“I mean; aren’t you tired of all these rules?” Meg sounded exhausted. “Nobody ever talked about it until Bea and Ben got back, not since I tried to get rid of them ages ago. God, I am _so_ sick of being told what to do.”

“…No rules could be nice,” Kit said slowly.

“I mean, obviously there would be _some_ rules, but you know. Normal, every day office rules, not evil dictator rules.”

“Right. Well, yeah, keep me updated on that I guess. Sounds cool.”

Freddie couldn’t take it anymore. She tore herself from the wall, ducking into the women’s bathroom next to the break room. She set her thermos down on the counter, pushing the bangs out of her eyes and staring at herself in the mirror.

They wanted to leave.

Kit wanted to leave her.

And it was all Beatrice and Benedick’s fault.

 

-

 

Bea and Ben parted ways once they reached the MESSINA compound, Beatrice kissing him quickly on the cheek before heading off to her desk. It was enough to give Benedick hope, or at least to remind him what he was fighting for. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, then pushed open the door to MESSINA’s hub.

Part briefing room, part workspace, part library, there wasn’t a very succinct way to describe the MESSINA hub. A stage was at one end of the room, a bay of computers was at the other, and in between were a million other things MESSINA couldn’t find room for anywhere else. Benedick could tell it had been cleaned out in the year he’d been gone, but there was no taming the hub.

A few members of Balth’s tech team sat at a table, apparently deep in conversation over a blueprint that sat in front of them. Some people were rummaging through file cabinets of MESSINA’s most recent cases (there was an entire _room_ elsewhere dedicated to older ones).  The press woman, the one who had covered up Meg’s arson, was sitting in a particularly comfy chair in the corner, frowning at her computer and typing furiously.

Benedick didn’t have to search for Peter for very long. He was standing up on the stage, brow knit, reading over what looked like a case file. Ben took a few strides across the room, dodging stray tables and chairs until he got up to the stage. He hoisted himself up, remembering how he and Beatrice used to take running jumps onto the stage just for the fun of it. They had to stop after Ben sprained his ankle, although he always insisted that it was Beatrice’s fault he’d mistimed his jump (“she distracted me!”).

Peter had noticed him. Ben could feel his gaze as he scrambled to his feet, brushing the dark hair out of his eyes.

“Hey Peter,” he grinned nervously, “lovely morning.”

“Mmhmm,” Peter nodded, his eyes turning back to the case file in his hands, “what do you need?”

It was a short response, even for Peter. Ben did his best not to feel offended.

“Uh, I was wondering if we could have a chat?” Benedick offered, swinging his arms absently. Peter looked him over, glanced down at his watch, and let out a small sigh.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, closing the file, “what’s up?”

“Well…” Ben realized, he wasn’t actually sure to begin. After a little deliberation, he decided to go for the obvious. “Peter, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. For everything that happened last year.”

“…Oh,” Peter stared at him, looking taken aback. “Thanks.” He started to open his file again, and Benedick couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed. Was that really all Peter wanted to say?

“I just felt bad, you know,” Benedick pressed, “that we never got to talk about it before. Especially with John, and everything.”

“No, it’s fine,” Peter said quickly, “we honestly don’t need to talk about it.”

“I didn’t mean to, you know, to _hurt_ you, I just wasn’t thinking straight,” Ben rambled, “It all happened so fast, you know how it is.”

“I really don’t, Benedick,” Peter’s voice had developed an edge, and Benedick felt the alarms going off in his head. _Back off, back off, back off._

“Sorry, we don’t have to talk about this now,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets, “but if there’s another time, or maybe during lunch, it… it might be nice.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be able to do that,” Peter said, shortly. “I’m busy.”

Benedick blinked, taken aback. He knew for a _fact_ that Peter spent his lunch hour chatting with people in the break room, that definitely didn’t make him busy.

“I’m just trying to apologize,” Ben pushed, frowning. “I really just think we should talk about it.”

“Well I’m sorry Ben, if I don’t feel like talking about any old drama between my brother and you,” Peter sighed exasperatedly. “It’s just… we’re past it. It’s done.”

“Are you sure?” Ben asked, feeling more than a little annoyed. “Because you don’t sound so past it, honestly.”

“Benedick, I have a lot to do -”

“Stop avoiding me,” Benedick said, the warning bells in his head fading away, “Pedro, I’m trying to say I’m sorry -”

“MY NAME IS NOT PEDRO,” Peter shouted so loudly that Benedick took a step backwards. Everyone in the room turned to look, but Peter didn’t seem to care. “You would KNOW that if you hadn’t LEFT.”

“I’m sorry!” Benedick said quickly, shooting glances at the other MESSINA employees; they all averted their eyes. “I’ve already told you, I’m just trying -”

“Well STOP trying, okay?” Peter snarled, “You’ve always been good at that.”

The words cut right into Ben’s chest. He felt his stomach start to churn, anger building and building…

“Oh, and _you’re_ so great?” Benedick scoffed, “you make a few mistakes and you just give up, you let _Kingston_ walk all over you.”

“At least my answer isn’t just to cut and run when things start to get tough,” Peter shot back. “At least I don’t drag anyone else down with me.

“What is THAT supposed to mean?” Benedick’s mouth hung open in shock.

“You know exactly what it means!” Peter ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. “Bea… Bea would never have left MESSINA if it wasn’t for you.”

“You’re suggesting that I _forced_ Beatrice to come with me?” Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his whole face felt numb with rage. “When have I, when has ANYONE ever made Beatrice do something she didn’t want to do? How _dare_ you -”

“It’s your fault!” Peter shouted, overlapping him. “It’s your fault everything went to shit, Ben. You fuck off for a year with your girlfriend and leave us behind like we meant nothing to you, like everything we ever worked for was less important than your _big love story_.”

“How can you say it’s all MY fault?” Ben shouted back, trying to ignore the burning behind his eyes. “Like Beatrice isn’t even a part of it, like I MADE her abandon everything and run away. You just don’t want to believe that she cares more about me than she does about MESSINA.”

“ _BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP!”_

Ben turned toward the voice, out of breath and shaking like he hadn’t in a long time. Everyone was staring at him, eyes wide. Out of the corner of his vision he saw Beatrice run into the room, looking confused and scared.

Freddie Kingston was staring daggers at him; her teeth gritted, her eyes wide and sleepless, her knuckles white.

“I cannot BELIEVE you,” she said through her teeth, “you come into my organization and think you can just say whatever you want, _Mountanto_?”

“He was the one who started -” Ben began, incensed, but another glance at Bea’s face shut him up.

“NEW RULE,” Freddie shouted, her voice echoing through the silent room. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting to see what strict new regulation would be placed on them this time. “Starting today… romantic relationships between MESSINA employees are _banned_.”

The whole room fell silent as a tomb. Ben felt like he couldn’t move, both feet rooted to the spot in shock. She couldn’t… she _wouldn’t_.

“… _What?_ ” a small voice asked from the corner. Ben recognized it almost immediately, turning to stare in her direction.

Chelsey was standing next to an open file cabinet, a pile of papers in her arms and disbelief in her eyes.

 Before anyone else could find the words to say something, before Ben could even argue, Freddie turned on her heel, storming out of the hub past Bea and Kit and slamming the door behind her.

-

 

The official memo was sent out to every employee that afternoon:

  
**_By the decision of FREDDIE KINGSTON and PETER DONALDSON_ ** ****_  
_ **_Romantic relationships between MESSINA employees are hereby_ ** ****_  
_ **_Disallowed, disbanded and discouraged_ ** ****_  
_ **_This will henceforth be number 8 in the official Employee Code of Conduct_ ** ****_  
_ **_Failure to comply will result in a consultation with FREDDIE KINGSTON_ ** ****_  
_ **_Please direct all questions to MESSINA's co-leader, FREDDIE KINGSTON_ ** **  
**

This was immediately followed by an email from a very frantic Chelsey:

 

**_Hi Freddie,_ **

**_Paige and I had a quick question about this latest rule. As you know (because we disclosed this to you when we were hired), we’re already married (very happily I might add!). We were just wondering if that means the rule doesn’t apply to us? Because if it does, you can consider this our two weeks notice. Respectfully, of course._ **

**_Chelsey Long_ **

**_Nine Worthies/MESSINA Communications Department_ **

 

A few hours later, a second email from Freddie arrived:

  
**_By the decision of FREDDIE KINGSTON and PETER DONALDSON_ ** ****_  
_ **_As an addendum to rule 8 in the official Employee Code of Conduct_ ** ****_  
_ **_Previously married MESSINA employees are excluded_ ** **** ****_  
_ **_Please direct all questions to MESSINA's co-leader, FREDDIE KINGSTON_ ** ****

“There you go!” Benedick sighed, leaning back in his chair. “We just tell her we're married, no harm done.”

He turned to Beatrice, expecting a smile, but she sat stiffly in her chair.

“No.”

“ _No?_ ” Benedick stared. “Beatrice, I know I messed up with Peter, but this rule doesn’t affect us anymore! Let's just go -”

“No!” Beatrice insisted, “This isn't about Peter, Ben, it's about Freddie. She made a stupid rule, nobody should have to follow it. She’s not _God_ , she can’t just send out an email and assume we’re going to just _break up_ because she wants us to!”

“Bea -”

“I'm not budging on this, Benedick.” Bea said, arms firmly crossed. “People don't get to know personal shit about our lives because our boss had a temper tantrum.”

“So what are we gonna do about it?” Benedick countered, furrowing his brow. “We can't change Freddie's mind on this, love.”

“I wouldn't waste my time trying,” Bea said, spinning her chair back around to her computer. “Whatever organization she thinks she's running, it's not MESSINA anymore.”

 

**-**

 

Kit was not the kind of person who got angry. He never had been, really. When he was a little boy, his mother had taught him to take himself out of the situation when he felt his temper rising. She’d taught him to ride it out, to deal with his anger in healthy ways, and only come back to the situation once he felt like he could talk it out calmly and rationally. _You have to be careful what you say when you’re angry, Kitso,_ she’d cautioned, _there are some things you can’t take back._

His mother’s advice had served him well for years, and it had been ringing in his ears all day. It was exactly why he hadn’t immediately stormed Freddie’s office after she’d made the new rule. Instead, he channeled his anger into other things: a sparring session with Rosa, a detailed report of all his completed assignments that month, writing and re-writing a letter to Freddie that he knew he’d never send, systematically shredding the pages one by one when he was finished.

He deliberately left at 11:20, when he knew Freddie began her last sweep of the building before she locked up for the night, so he could slip out without seeing her – but he only made it halfway across the parking lot when he heard her voice ring out in the night.

“Wait up!” He stopped, but didn’t turn. She tried to catch his eye when she reached him, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “You left. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Why would I wait for you?” He couldn’t help the anger that seeped into his voice. “It’s not like we’re together.”

She stopped short.

“What do you mean?”

“The rule you made,” He said. “If you wanted to break up, you could’ve at least had the decency to tell me directly.”

“What? No, I – I made that rule because of Beatrice and Benedick!” Freddie reached for his arm, but he jerked it away. “Kit, of _course_ I don’t want to break up. That rule… it doesn’t really apply to us. I mean, no one even knows we’re together! We’ve kept a secret this long –”

“That’s even worse!” He cried, exasperated. “It was one thing to keep us a secret because you’re my boss – I get that, I _really_ do. But that was someone else’s rule! _You_ made this one. It’s completely within your control. You can’t make an office-wide policy and then say it doesn’t apply to us because that’s what’s _convenient_ for you. You can’t make a rule just to attack two specific people. That’s – that’s an abuse of power.”

“Their fighting is a threat to this company,” Freddie argued, “they were making themselves a liability, I had to do what I thought was right for MESSINA!”

“What about what’s right for _us?_ ” Kit fired back. “Jesus, Freddie – do you even want to be with me at all?”

“Of _course_ I do.” She tried again to reach for his hand, but he took a step back. “Kit…”

“Really? Because last night I told you I loved you, and your immediate reaction was to make a rule banning all relationships. You could’ve just said _I’m not there yet_ or _I don’t feel the same_. It would’ve sucked to hear, but…” He shrugged helplessly. “It still would’ve been better than this.”

“You’re the one who’s going behind my back and talking about leaving the company!” She snapped, turning on him, “I heard you talking to Meg this morning, about how you all want to leave MESSINA -”

“Okay, first of all, I never told her _yes_ ,” Kit said, “I just asked her to keep me posted. And second of all, did it ever occur to you that I might want to leave MESSINA so we don’t have to keep us a secret anymore? But apparently that was pretty foolish of me, because as it turns out, there’s not even an ‘us’ for me to think about. Because _apparently_ , even after almost seven months of being together, I can’t tell you how I really feel without running the risk of you walking out on me.”

Freddie’s face went red all the way to the tips of her ears, and she was suddenly overcome with how _tired_ she was. Tired of fighting. Tired of feeling like things were beyond her control, like everything she’d taken for granted was suddenly out of her grasp.

“Kit… I’m sorry, okay? Can we please just… not talk about it?” She took a step towards him. “Today was awful. I’m _sorry_. But can you please just give me some time? With the love thing?”

Kit gave her a once-over. She looked so completely defeated, pleading with him in the parking lot. And to be honest, he felt defeated, too. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to push Freddie into something she didn’t want for herself. His mother’s advice hung heavy in his mind: _there are some things you can’t take back._

So he did what he’d been taught to do: he took himself out of the equation.

“Sure thing, Freddie,” he said, turning away from her and heading for his car, “take all the time you need.”


	7. Chapter 7

For the first time in her life, Freddie Kingston was late.

She spent the first half of the night trying to get Kit to answer her calls, and the second alternating between crying and screaming into her pillow. She went for a four a.m. jog to try and clear her head, but even that didn’t help. She wound up falling asleep on her couch around five, and slept right through her six o’clock alarm.

She arrived at work just past nine, still wearing her pajamas, her hair a tangled mess.

_"T_ _here_ you are,” Meg said when she saw her, “you’re so late! We were about to start calling hospitals!”

“There was a… personal emergency,” Freddie said, distracted. “Did I miss anything important?”

“That depends,” Meg said gravely, “do you call the sudden return of _Cornwall_ important?”

Freddie stopped short, all thoughts of Kit momentarily whisked away. Cornwall? _Now?_

He was one of MESSINA’s most notorious failed cases, a drug lord they’d been sent to take down a few months before Freddie’s tenure as co-leader. But the spies leading the mission hadn’t succeeded, and Cornwall had been missing in action ever since.

“Seriously? Cornwall?” Freddie’s eyes widened. “How do you know?”

“There’s been a flare up of activity in the Swiss Alps that follow his pattern of behavior,” Meg pushed her laptop towards Freddie, already opened to a series of reports. “And then this morning, I got an email from an anonymous source saying there’s talk of him trying to track down some new drug or something? Apparently it derives from a plant specific to Switzerland, though I’m not sure which plant -”

“ _Why_ he’s there is irrelevant,” Freddie said dismissively, “what matters is that he’s there. Did you trace the email?”

“We tried, but even Balthazar couldn’t figure out a way to track down who it came from. Just an anonymous tip, I guess.”

“Does Peter know? Where is he? We need to strategize.” She crossed her arms, thinking hard.

“Peter’s in his office,” Meg said, seeming annoyed, “with Bea and Ben. He’s putting them back on it.”

“ _What_?” Freddie’s fists clenched, and she could feel her face growing hot. “The two who couldn’t get Cornwall the _first_ time? No. Absolutely not allowed.”

“Oh, are you banning _another_ thing?” Beatrice asked darkly, coming up behind her, “What is it this time? No making eye contact with anyone else in the office? No laughing?”

“You do _not_ get the Cornwall case,” She said, snatching the file from Bea’s hand, “You failed the last time you had it, and then you left the company.”

“Fine, you can have it,” Bea snapped, “I don’t want it.”

“What? Beatrice!” Ben frantically grabbed for the file. “It’s ours. Peter already assigned it to us. We know the case better than anyone!”

“I’m pulling rank,” Freddie said hotly, “I’m your commanding officer and I’m taking this one.”

“Freddie, be reasonable,” Peter took the file and held it high above his head. “They _do_ know this case better than anyone else here. Besides, it’s a two person mission.”

“Then I’ll take Kit,” She said, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Actually, I’m not sure I’m the best person for this one,” Kit said, looking right past Freddie and speaking directly to Peter instead. “I think Freddie should take someone else.”

“Well, it doesn’t actually matter what you think, because I’m your boss.” She whirled around, her jaw clenched. “And as your boss, I’m telling you that you’re coming with me.”

“Actually, I know the area you’re talking about really well,” Rosa piped up from her desk, where she’d been watching everything unfold with a mildly amused smirk. “Swiss Alps, right? Yeah, I used to work for an organization that dealt with that territory all the time.”

“So Rosa will go,” Peter said, nodding.

“What? No!” Ben cried, “It’s _Bea_ and _me_! You already assigned it to us!”

“Hold on,” Meg frowned, “So now we’re just having a free for all to decide who gets cases? Because if so, I want in.”

“Meg, stay out of this –” Freddie started.

“No! No, I’m serious,” Meg cut her off, her anger rising. “I’ve worked my ass off at this company for years. I’ve proven myself over and over again, and yet you keep giving me the second rate assignments. _I_ never ran off and joined another organization because my feelings were hurt. _I_ never fucked off for a year to hang out with my boyfriend. And _I’m_ the one who gave you this intel, by the way. You wouldn’t even know Cornwall was back if it weren’t for me! If anyone here deserves this, it’s me.”

“There you go! Give it to Meg and Rosa,” Bea said, exasperated. “Problem solved.”

“I can’t believe you’re just going to toss this aside!” Ben gaped at her. “Bea, are you seriously forgetting all the work we put into this case?”

“Um, hey…” Everyone in the room spun around at once, gazes falling on Balthazar, standing in the doorway. “Not that it’s any of my business, but I couldn’t help but overhear, and I think you could all be an asset on the mission, actually.”

“There’s no way we need _seven_ spies on this,” Freddie said, a note of finality in her voice.

“We should at least hear him out, Freddie.” Peter turned to Balthazar. “How so?”

“Well, like Rosa said, she knows that territory really well. So, obviously you’d need her there. And then, of course, Bea and Ben know the _case_ really well, so you’ll want them. Kitso’s an amazing sniper, so it can’t hurt to have him working with Beatrice on that, and Meg’s got the whole up-close combat covered with her knives, so she and Ben could work together there. Strength in numbers, right?” He shrugged. “Plus it seems like Freddie really wants to go, and I don’t think you’re going to let everyone else go without you, so…”

Everyone turned back to Peter, expressions ranging from confused to annoyed to hopeful.

“Well, _dad?_ ” Beatrice asked, arms crossed and brows raised.

“Fine,” He sighed heavily, defeated. “We’re all going to Switzerland.”

 

-

 

When Freddie finally got to her office that morning, there was no coffee waiting for her.

She wasn’t surprised.

Instead, right in the middle of her desk, there was a small silver key. There was no note. She wasn’t surprised by that, either.

She picked it up and curled her fingers around it, clenching her fist so tightly that the teeth of the key dug into her palm. She could feel hot tears springing up in her eyes, though whether it was from the pain in her hand or her heart, she wasn’t sure.

She put her head down on her desk, and she let herself sob.

 

-

 

Beatrice was definitely going to strangle someone, though whether it would be Freddie or Ben was anyone’s guess. After Peter made the decision that they were all going, Freddie had kicked into high gear, barking out orders and sending memo after memo out to them, filled with lists of things that needed to be done before they left for their trip. It was driving Bea up a wall – there was being prepared and organized, and then there was _Freddie._ She kept printing out handouts with safety information and leaving them on everyone’s desk, all with quizzes attached to the back that needed to be handed in and graded, just to ensure they were retaining the information. (Ben had dared to joke “can’t we just watch a couple episodes of that Bear Grylls show?” and Freddie’s retaliation was to make them all watch a two hour movie on avalanche safety. It was stunningly boring.)

And then there was Benedick, who kept bowing to her whims, as though the rules suddenly _mattered_ to him. When Beatrice sat on his desk to talk to him – something she’d been doing since they were first hired at MESSINA – he balked and practically pushed her off.

“Don’t let her see you,” He hissed, “we’ll get in trouble.”

“Are you serious?” Beatrice’s jaw dropped. “I don’t care! Let her try and punish me, it’s a stupid rule. It’s not like I’m shoving my tongue down your throat in the middle of a workday – I just came over to have a conversation.”

“We can’t look too cozy,” He said, glancing around nervously. “If you’d just let me tell her that we’re married, we wouldn’t have to worry about being punished at all. Look at Chelsey and Paige! They’re totally exempt!”

“Absolutely not! I will not give in to her stupid rule and its weird clauses!” Beatrice could feel her blood pressure rising. “A stupid piece of paper shouldn’t change anything, for anyone.”

“Bea, _please_ ,” Ben implored her, “This past week has been the first time since we got back that I feel like I’m a part of MESSINA again. Why are you trying to make this harder for me?”

Beatrice reared back as though she’d been slapped.

“You think I’m _trying_ to make this harder for you?” She asked, red faced and angry, “The whole reason I’m fighting this rule is for us. And you just want to give in to her! We’re supposed to be a _team_ , Benedick. Or did you forget that?”

“Yeah, we’re _supposed_ to be a team,” He agreed, “and yet you’re trying to break up the team by leaving this place, right when I’m finally starting to settle in again!”

“You are being _so_ self-centered!”

“ _I’m_ being self-centered?!”

“What a surprise, the two of you are fighting again!” Freddie’s voice cut through the room, and Bea and Ben stepped apart, whirling around to face her. Her arms were crossed and she was glaring; her usual stance around the two of them. “Did you forget the rules already?”

“The rule is no dating, not no _arguing_ ,” Beatrice grumbled, “or did you add _that_ to the list, too?”

“Are you questioning my authority?” Freddie demanded.

“Maybe I am,” Bea crossed her arms as well, mirroring Freddie’s pose.

“That is insubordination, _Lady Disdain_ ,” She said coolly, “Which is a fireable offense, I’ll have you know.”

“Listen, you might be my boss, but you don’t get to dictate my relationships,” Beatrice spat. “I will _not_ break up with Ben because you decided to make some stupid rule! Not happening.”

“Beatrice!” Peter appeared in his office door, a stern look on his face. “ _Cool it._ Freddie, walk it off. I know tensions are high because of Cornwall’s reappearance, but we have to keep a level head about this. We need to be a united front on this one, and that means sucking it up and getting along for the next few days. Got it?”

“As long as everyone is following the rules, we won’t have a problem,” Freddie said, before whirling around and marching off towards the stairs, back to her own office.

“Hey,” Ben took Bea’s hand, pulling her towards him. His face had gone soft, and he was smiling at her, looking truly touched. “Thanks for saying that. About not breaking up with me just because she tells you to. And… for defending our relationship.”

“Of course I’m going to defend our relationship,” She said, anger still pulsating through her, “The real question is, Benedick, will _you?_ ”

She yanked her hand away and walked briskly out of the room, never once glancing back to see the wounded look on Ben’s face.

 

-

 

Freddie had taken to sleeping in the break room. Things at her apartment reminded her too much of Kit – they hadn’t been living together (though he’d dropped some hints that he might like to), but even so, she couldn’t look at anything without thinking of him. His toothbrush on her bathroom counter. The shirts she’d stolen from him to wear as pajama tops in her hamper. A stack of books he loaned her on the bedside table. The pictures from his family’s holiday party hanging on the fridge. She couldn’t bring herself to get rid of it, and she couldn’t bring herself to keep staring at it, so she just… stopped.

Despite the fact that MESSINA was home to some of the top spies in the world, no one seemed to notice she’d been sleeping there – she was the boss ( _co-leader_ , she corrected herself begrudgingly), so it made sense that she was the first one in the office, and the last one to leave. And they had bathrooms with really lovely showers (“we had too many instances where spies came back covered in blood,” Peter explained sheepishly, “it was kind of becoming a biohazard thing”), and they had decent kitchens for when people pulled all-nighters working on cases. She reasoned that she could probably stay there comfortably for another few days, at least until they left for the Alps.

Ben was the one who caught her, as it turned out. He showed up early one day, when she was curled up on the couch in her sleeping bag.

“Freddie?” He asked, “what’re you doing here?”

“Shit! Ben!” She jolted up, glancing frantically around the room, “I, um… I was pulling an all nighter on this case, and I just, uh… must’ve fallen asleep.”

“There’s a rule against that, you know,” Ben raised his brow.

“Yes, I am aware of that.” Her gaze was steely. “But I’m the one with the authority in this situation.”

“Right,” Ben nodded, taking in the duffel bag stuffed with rumpled clothes on the floor and small plastic bin filled with shower supplies with a bemused look, “well, clearly you’ve prepared for it. C’mon, Kingston, tell me the truth. How long have you been sleeping here?”

She couldn’t take the smirk on his face, the way he was so clearly _relishing_ in the worst week of her life.

“That’s none of your business, _Mountanto,_ ” She said sharply, hostility returning. “Why do you want to know, anyway? So you can run off and tell some _other_ spy org the next time you stab us in the back?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ben said, jerking away as though she’d struck  him, “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Shh,” She held up a hand, tilting her head. There was a series of beeps and then the familiar sound of the main door whooshing open down the hall, and a sudden burst of laughter filled the office. Something in Ben’s face changed when he heard Bea enter, but Freddie had stopped paying him any attention; all she could focus on was the familiar sound of Kit’s voice.  

Not a moment later, they watched as Bea and Kitso turned down the hallway, each of them with an arm hooked around Meg’s, strolling confidently between the two of them. Kit’s smile reached his ears, and Bea’s head was thrown back into a laugh, both of them completely regaled by whatever story Meg was  telling. If they noticed Ben and Freddie sitting in the dimly lit breakroom, their faces gave away nothing – they just carried on down the hall towards the hub, giggles trailing behind them.

“I need to go,” Freddie said suddenly, gathering up her things. She paused at the door, whirling on Ben. “Don’t you dare breathe a word to anyone about me staying here. That’s an order from your leader.”

“Whatever,” He muttered, their conversation already fading. She was glad he was so distracted, otherwise he might’ve noticed that she was brushing tears from her eyes as she fled the room.

 

-

 

The day before the mission, Balthazar had the entire team lined up in the tech room for a debriefing. It was a long rectangular space, with shelves so packed with miscellaneous wires and wrenches it was hard to imagine how anyone could find their way around. It reminded Benedick of his high school science classrooms; there were even a few test tubes lying around if you looked hard enough. He imagined Balth and his team wading through dumpsters, picking up anything that looked useful and just throwing it on a shelf when they got back to base.  

Ben wanted to crack a joke to Beatrice about the disarray, but he was pretty sure that wouldn’t go over too well. Instead, he turned to Kit.

“It’s like an _I Spy_ book in here,” he mumbled, as Balthazar set up at a table in front of them, “how many tech agents do you think they lose in this mess every year?”

Kit laughed, casting a glance around at the chaos. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben noticed Freddie shoot them a look. God, that woman really hated fun, didn’t she?

“They should send Freddie down here to organize,” Ben added, chuckling at the thought. “Maybe the mess would swallow her, that would give everyone some peace and quiet.”

Kit’s smile faltered.

“Okay guys, gather round,” Balthazar announced, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, “there’s not too much to cover, so this should be quick.”

They all stepped close, watching as Balthazar picked a familiar device up off the table.

“I’m going to assume you’re all familiar with this by now, but just in case, this is your communicator watch.” He held it a little higher, just to make sure everyone could see. “I know it’s a standard piece of equipment, but it’s also the most important thing you carry with you.”

Benedick was inclined to agree. Keeping in contact with MESSINA and your teammates during a mission could mean the difference between success and failure, or worse. In his experience, you had to get pretty creative to work without one.

“This earpiece goes in your ear, obviously,” Balth continued. “Red button on the communicator calls MESSINA, blue button calls your teammates, just hold them both down to call everybody. Questions?”

Everyone shook their heads. Communicator proficiency was something you learned on your first day of training, they always made sure to drill it into you when you went out on assignment.

“Okay, moving on,” Balthazar set the communicator down, picking up what looked like a military-style backpack. “This is your mission pack, you’ll each be carrying one of these with you tomorrow. Again, not too much to cover, make sure your weapons have the safety turned on if you put them in here. The one thing I wanted to mention was the parachute.”

“You are all up to date on your parachute training, right?” Freddie asked, looking down the line, “we’re flying into a dangerous weather area, we don’t know what we might get stuck in.”

“Yeah Freddie, you asked us yesterday,” Meg said, forced politeness in every syllable.

“Anyway,” Balthazar said quickly, as Freddie opened her mouth to respond, “the important thing to know is, this is more than a normal parachute.” He pointed out the release tab hanging on one of the straps. “This will release the parachute, just like you’re all used to, but _this_ –” he swung the pack around, pointing out a small tab on the top, “this is new.”

“Exciting,” Peter said, grinning at Balthazar. He smiled back, accidentally knocking a stray battery off the table in his distraction.

“Whoops! Uh… where was I?” He said, picking the battery back up in one swift motion and setting it back in place. “Right, so the backpack. This is actually really important, so make sure you don’t forget this. This tab up here,” he pointed it out again, just to make sure everyone could see. It was bright blue, and stood out significantly from the green fabric of the backpack.

“This tab,” Balth explained, “inflates your sled.”

“Sled?” Benedick asked, his eyes wide with excitement. “Cool!”

“Well, it can have a lot of uses,” Balthazar amended. “Sled, raft, air mattress; basically it’s a inflatable plastic _thing_.”

“Sounds pretty useful,” Kit said, looking thoughtful.

“That’s what we’re hoping,” Balthazar nodded. “Here’s the thing; it’s really important that you aren’t pointing this pack at anyone when you release it.” The whole team stared at him in confusion. “See, the thing fills up with air pretty quick,” he explained, “in case of an emergency, we don’t want to waste time. The only issue there is, it kind of explodes out like an airbag.”  

“Whoa,” Rosa said, looking impressed, “sounds dangerous, Balthy.”

“Only if you don’t use it right,” he said, smiling at his sister. “But just keep in in mind. Red tab, parachute. Blue tab…”

“Potential broken ribs,” Beatrice finished with a smirk.

“Yeah,” Balthazar said, after a moment of consideration, “something like that.”

 

-

 

“Just one more thing,” Freddie said, checking off items on her list as she went, “we need to leave someone in charge.”

“What about one of the Nine Worthies?” Ben suggested, brightening. “Or even Balthazar. He’s been here long enough.”

“We can’t leave someone from the communications or tech departments in charge of the _entire_ organization while we’re gone,” She scoffed. “Serious suggestions only, please.”

“That _was_ a serious suggestion!” He defended.

“There _is_ one spy would could ask,” Peter said, “one who worked for the company before, so she’d know what she was doing…”

“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, then let me save you some trouble – _don’t._ ” Beatrice narrowed her eyes at him. Undeterred, Peter took out his phone and started punching in numbers. Beatrice lunged across the table to try and grab it from him, but he stepped out of her reach. “I’m serious, Peter! Leave her out of this!”

“Hi, Hero?” Peter jumped on his desk, trying to use his free arm to keep Beatrice at bay, “It’s Peter. Are you free this afternoon?”

 

-

 

“It’s so nice to have you all over,” Hero said happily, hugging each of them one by one as they came into the house, “I mean, it’s been great having Bea and Ben here with me, but this feels extra special. We haven’t all been in the same room in so long!”

“Sorry about that,” Peter apologized, “I keep meaning to get over here and visit, but things at the office have been keeping us all pretty busy.”

“No need to be sorry, I remember how it was.” She smiled, and set down a platter of cookies on the table. “So! To what do I owe the pleasure of having you?”

“We’re kind of here for a favor, actually,” Meg admitted, snatching one of the cookies. “A… work related favor.”

“A work favor?” Hero tilted her head, her confusion evident.

“You wanna take this one, Bossman?” Ben glanced over at Peter, who nodded.

“We’re going out on a mission,” He explained, “the four of us _plus_ Freddie, Kit, and Rosa – which means MESSINA is about to be left without any spies. Which Freddie and I aren’t comfortable with, for obvious reasons. And seeing as it’s such short notice, we were wondering if you would be willing to step in and just kind of hold down the fort while we’re gone.”

“But… I’m retired,” Hero frowned. “I signed all those exit papers. I’m not even technically allowed in the _building_ anymore.”

“You’d be granted access for the duration of our mission, of course,” He said hurriedly, “which shouldn’t be more than a few days.”

“I don’t know,” Hero bit her lip. “I retired for a reason. And it’s been so long, I’m not even sure I’d remember all the protocol.”

“A spy never forgets,” Ben tried to joke, but it fell flat.

“You’d _really_ be helping us out, babes,” Meg said.

“You wouldn’t even have to leave the facility,” Peter went on. “We wouldn’t expect you to get back out on the field and do missions or anything – really, it’s just a formality. You’d be like a figurehead. We just need to stick someone in charge while everyone around you proceeds business as usual. At most, you might have to do some paperwork for us, but to be honest Freddie will probably just do it over when we get back.”

“If she doesn’t want to do it, she doesn’t have to,” Bea said, wrapping her arm around Hero’s shoulder.

“Of course not,” Peter said, immediately backing off. “No pressure at all, Hero. You don’t owe us any favors. If it’s asking too much –”

“I wouldn’t have to go out on assignment?” She asked. Everyone’s eyes widened a little, caught by surprise.

“You won’t even have to set a foot outside of the building,” Peter promised.

“Seriously, Hero,” Beatrice said, the concern in her voice apparent, “if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

“It’s alright, Beatrice. Honestly.” Hero looked to Peter, determined. “I’ve been so afraid to go back to MESSINA, and so upset about the reasons for my leaving – and I’m glad I retired, really, because I don’t think that life was right for me, but… I do have a lot of happy, proud memories from that place, I don’t want to be afraid of it anymore, or feel badly about my time there. This could be like… a second chance. So I can remember MESSINA fondly this time, once I leave again.”

“Great!” He said, thrilled, “I’ll have Freddie draw up the paperwork to put you temporarily back on payroll and grant you access to the building.”

“You’re the best, Hero,” Ben beamed at her, “I always knew you were my favorite Duke.”

“Ha-ha,” Bea said dryly.

“Look at you, back in the saddle,” Meg nudged her playfully.

“Yeah, well,” Hero rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face. “It’s only a few days, right?”

“Only a few days,” Peter confirmed, nodding, “a week, tops. You won’t even know we’re gone.”


	8. Chapter 8

Of course Freddie had her pilot's license. Of _course_ she did. On the morning of the mission, she’d loaded them all into a plane (one that looked incredibly shoddy for an official MESSINA aircraft if you asked everyone else on the team, but they didn’t dare speak up about it) and she hadn’t moved from her position in the cockpit for the duration of the trip. No one had said much of anything – there was an air of awkwardness hovering over everyone, permeating the cabin of the plane.

Kit slumped back in his seat, hands in his pockets, feet crossed one over the other, staring out the window at clouds so fluffy he could practically feel them brush his skin as they passed. He had brought a book, but he’d finished it hours ago. There wasn’t much room for leisure activities in their packs, so it was up to them to stave off boredom creatively.

Kit could tell that everyone else was just as restless at he was. Meg had pulled a marker out of her pocket and was giving herself a fairly intense sleeve tattoo; Kit could make out lots of tiny knives among the swirls and polka dots. Rosa was reading too, but she’d been smart enough to bring a kindle. Peter sat in the corner, trying and failing over and over to spin his pencil around his thumb. He kept dropping it or flicking it across the plane by mistake.

Bea and Ben hadn’t talked for the first half of the ride, but even they had given in to boredom. They were passing a notebook back and forth (still not looking at each other) filling up pages and pages with games of tic tac toe and hangman. Kit could see the phrases getting longer and longer, things like

G R A P P L I N G  H O O K

and

I’M  G O I N G  T O  J U M P  O U T  O F  T H I S  P L A N E  I  A M  S O  B O R E D

As for Freddie…

Kit wanted to walk right into the cockpit and talk to her. He wanted to walk in and see her sitting there, her hair probably pulled back, that little wrinkle she got between her eyebrows when she was focused, and know that everything was going to be okay. If there was something he could do or say to make things right again, he would.

But he knew the world didn’t work that way. There was never going to be an easy answer to a complicated problem.

 _It shouldn’t have to be complicated,_ the tiny voice in his head complained. _Do you love her?_

Kit closed his eyes, breathing low and deep into his lungs. Of course he did, damn it, but that wasn’t always enough.

He leaned back further, focusing on his breath until he felt himself drifting off to sleep. It could have been hours, minutes, Kit would never be sure, but the next thing he knew he was awoken by a jolt as the plane veered to the side.

“Everybody hold on,” Freddie shouted, as the plane gave another jerk that sent them all sprawling, “we’ve got a problem.”

Kit grabbed hold of his seat tightly as the plane jumped again, buffeted by strong winds. Out the window he could just make out mountains, a snow-scape of rocky peaks and valleys, but his view was obscured. In fact, it seemed to Kit like the air was made of snow, swirling and pushing up against their tiny plane.

“Agent Kingston to MESSINA,” Freddie called over the communicator, “unexpected rough air conditions.”

"How bad is it guys?” Kit heard Jaquie’s voice come in choppily over his earpiece.

“Pretty bad,” Freddie responded, her statement further accentuated as Ben yelled _holy SHIT_ in the background. “Any ideas?”

"Freddie!” Rosa scurried up to the cockpit, her backpack already on, “I recognize these mountains!”

“Can you land the plane?” Jaquie’s voice cut in again, “or maybe—”

The rest of her sentence was lost in static as the plane lurched; Kit saw Beatrice fall into Benedick, but then neither of them were letting each other go.

“We lost them,” Freddie called. “Rosa, you said—”

“My old base is around here,” she confirmed, pointing, “just over that mountain, but there’s no way we can land the plane anywhere close.”

“Who said anything about landing?” Freddie grimaced, Kit could see her arms shaking with effort. She brought a hand quickly up to her ear to switch settings on her communicator. “Plan B, team,” she instructed. “Everyone grab your packs and snow gear, we’re jumping.”

“ _What?_ ” Meg yelled, nearly falling over her own bag.

“Looks like you’re getting your wish, Bea,” Benedick said, as the six of them scrambled to grab their coats and backpacks.

“Oh shut _up,_ ” Beatrice said, turning around, grabbing him by the collar and kissing him deeply. “That’s in case we die, stupid.”

“Love you too,” he said gently, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Make sure to pull the right tab for your parachute!” Freddie barked out, “It’s the red one!”

Kit strapped his own pack tightly around himself, making sure he was prepared. They’d practiced emergency scenarios like this one, but nobody had thought one would actually happen.

“Doors opening!” Peter shouted, and suddenly the cry of the snowstorm outside hit them all on full blast. Kit had never experienced anything like it— like a thousand lions were roaring at him from every direction, and the cold so sudden and fierce it took his breath away.

For all the frenzied activity surrounding them, he began to appreciate what an amazing pilot Freddie was. How she maneuvered her way around the mountains he would never understand.

Freddie…

Kit was in the cockpit in four quick strides, his hand on her shoulder.

“What are you _doing_?” he shouted over the noise, “we have to get out of here soon!”

“I’m FLYING!” She retorted, her knuckles white. “If I leave now we’ll crash!”

“And how _are_ you planning to get off?” Kit retorted.

“I’ll figure it out!” she snapped, pressing a button on her communicator. “Rosa, on your call!”

“Got it,” Rosa replied, “now or never guys, let’s go!” Kit watched them all begin to jump, one after the other.

“Kit! Get OUT of here!” Freddie cried desperately.

“Not without you,” he insisted. “Where’s your pack?”

Freddie’s eyes got wide, casting panicked looks around the cockpit.

“It— it was just here!” she yelled desperately. Kit was already checking the back of the plane— nothing.

“It fell out,” he said, “come on, we’ll share.”

“But,” Freddie tried to protest, but Kit put a hand on her cheek and her sentence died in her throat.

“Put us in position, and we’ll jump. Just like in practice,” he said, staring her directly in the eyes. “ _Quickly._ ”

He saw something in her eye click into gear, and suddenly she popped up, ready for action.

“Okay,” she lined up the plane carefully before slamming down on the autopilot button and racing to the main cabin with Kit, careful not to fall out the plane door prematurely.

She laced her arms carefully through the straps of Kit’s pack, pulling herself close to him and holding on tightly, just like they’d all practiced. Her face was buried in his neck, the familiar scent of her shampoo filling his nose.

“Ready?” Kit asked.

“YESGOBEFOREWEHITSOMETHING!” She gasped, her ponytail whipping around behind her.

And then, he couldn’t stop himself, he leaned down and kissed her. For a split second, the disaster around them didn’t exist. For that moment, everything was back to the way it was before. Her face close to him, cheeks soft against his own.

“That’s in case we die,” he breathed as they broke apart. “Hold on.”

And together, they jumped.

 

-

 

“Okay okay okay,” Paige laughed, pouring herself another glass of wine. “One time I saw them making out in a broom closet down by the training gym.”

“What a cliche!” Costa said. “Their forbidden romance flourishes in the shadow of cleaning supplies.”

“I can beat that,” Chelsey said, her legs sprawled across Paige’s lap. “Every morning… Kit leaves a coffee on Freddie’s desk. Every. Morning.”

“Are you kidding me?” Paige laughed again. “Chels, that’s so tame.”

“It’s _romantic!_ ” Chelsey insisted, refilling her wine glass. “He really cares about her.”

“Aww, babe,” Paige leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, “you’re such a sap.”

“You both are!” Costa added.

“I’ll give you a story,” Jaquie said, a smirk spreading across her face. “If you think you can handle it.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Paige asked.

“Yeah, don’t you trust us?” Chelsey batted her eyes, innocently.

“I just want to make sure you’re prepared for the most shocking story you’ve ever heard,” Jaquie said. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“Jaquie,” Costa took her hands, staring intensely into her eyes. “We are your closest allies, your best friends. Please, tell us all you know.”

“Fine,” she grinned at him, biting her lip. “...They definitely had sex in her office.”

“NO!” The other three worthies gasped. Paige spilled a large quantity of wine onto the floor.

“YES,” Jaquie actually laughed, tipping back in her chair.

The four of them dissolved into fits of infectious giggles; no one was able to keep it together for more than thirty seconds before cracking up again.

“ _Please_ tell me it wasn’t on the - on the BIG monitor,” Chelsey gasped.

“GOD no,” Jaquie cackled, “you think I want that image burned into my eyes?”

“Surely it wasn’t during office hours, was it?” Costa asked, hiccupping.

“No, she was working some big case after hours and he brought her coffee,” Jaquie explained. “It all just… just went downhill from there.”

“I _told_ you the coffee was romantic!” Chelsey chirped.

“I guess you -”

“Guys,” Costa interrupted, his voice suddenly tense, “where did the team go?”

All four worthies swiveled around to face the big monitor, where the seven colored dots representing their friends were supposed to be. There was nothing there.

“ _Shit_ ,” Jaquie jumped to her feet and raced to the center podium. “Chelsey, Paige, check the wires. Costa, see if you can-”

The screen flickered, and in a blink of an eye the seven dots reappeared. A sigh of relief filled the room.

“God, what _was_ that?” Jaquie fell back in her chair, massaging her shoulder anxiously.

“Connection must be spotty,” Chelsey said, knitting her brow. “That’s definitely not supposed to happen, not in those conditions.”

“This is ridiculous,” Costa sprang forward, grabbing the bottle of wine and moving to put it back in the mini fridge.  “We’ve been neglectful, worthies. I want fully updated weather reports from Jaquie, and a look over our surveillance system from Chelsey and Paige.”

“Where are you going?” Jaquie asked, seeing Costa head for the door.

“Sustenance,” he replied gravely, taking his coat off the wall. “If things go badly, we’ll need to call Hero down here, and we are all _dangerously_ close to being drunk.”

“Point taken,” Jaquie replied, turning her eyes to the monitor. “Bring back a pizza.”

 

-

For a while, there was only the falling.

Freddie felt the wind and snow whipping at the back of her neck, piercing every tiny crack in her winter clothing and engulfing her in flurries of freezing ice.

She clung to Kit, the only warm thing in the chaos.

Her legs and arms wrapped around him, gripping the straps of his backpack for dear life. There was a good chance she would be able to hold on once his chute opened, but if something went wrong…

 _You should tell him_ , she thought. _You should say it now, just in case…_

She opened her mouth just as Kit opened his chute, and her world jerked to a halt.

Freddie cried out, hands scraping the fabric of Kit’s backpack as she felt something tear in her shoulder. But she didn’t let go, _couldn’t_ let go, she had to keep holding on to the only thing that made sense.

The next thing she knew, the fall had slowed.

“FREDDIE,” Kit shouted over the wind, “ARE YOU OKAY?”

“SHOULDER,” she cried out, wincing as a gust of air jerked the parachute. “I THINK IT’S DISLOCATED.”

If Kit was worried, she couldn’t tell. She could barely see through the violent snowstorm. They were close enough to the ground that they were still coming in fast, the parachute was only there to slow their descent before the snow hit them.

Freddie braced herself, trying to ignore the biting pain in her shoulder and gripping tighter to Kit. She could still feel the tingle of his lips pressed against hers as they tumbled down…down…down…       

_BOOM_

The cold, wet snow surrounded her as they collided with the ground, half buried in the icy mess, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Her mind ran through the worst possible scenarios: _pierced lung, heart attack, already dead,_ until all the air came rushing back to her in a gasp. The wind had been knocked out of her, that was all.

She lay there for what felt like ages, just breathing and breathing and relishing the cool air. She was _alive._

_“Hello? HELLO? Freddie, what’s going on?”_

It was Costa’s voice in her ear, but she couldn’t answer it. Her arms felt too cold to move, she just wanted to stay on the ground and sleep...

Someone grabbed her under the shoulders, she felt strong hands pull her up, and she could only collapse into their arms.

“Whoa, boss,” it was Rosa. Her nose red, her pink knit hat and dark hood catching a million snowflakes as they fell.

“ _Kit_ ,” was all Freddie could say, as Rosa grabbed a scarf from her bag and wrapped it around Freddie’s freezing neck. “Where’s Kit?”

“He’s fine, we’re all fine,” Rosa assured, putting an arm around Freddie to steady her. “Well, Benedick hurt his ankle and Peter lost a glove, but otherwise.” Freddie winced as Rosa touched her shoulder. “Are _you_ okay?” She asked, suspiciously.

“ _Hello? Agents of MESSINA, what’s happened?_ ”

“Oh _shut up_ ,” Rosa shouted into her communicator, turning back to Freddie.

“Shoulder,” she mumbled, still feeling detached from the situation, like a bad dream. “I think I dislocated it, but it’s fine.”

“Oh Freddie, Jesus,” Rosa stopped walking, moving to inspect her shoulder. “You’ve got to _tell_ me these things.”

“I just did— _OW!_ ” Freddie yelled as Rosa gave her shoulder a mighty shove, popping it neatly back into place.

“Better?” She asked, taking Freddie by the arm again.

“I’d appreciate a little warning next time!” Freddie sputtered, rolling her shoulder uncomfortably.

“No you wouldn’t,” Rosa said, guiding her through the storm, following footprints back up a hill. “Come on, the cabin is this way.”

They didn’t have far to walk (Freddie silently congratulated herself on her good aim) before they reached the others.

“I found her!” Rosa called out to the small crowd gathered around what looked like an old log cabin. They were all so thoroughly coated in snow, if Freddie didn’t know better she could have mistaken them for yeti, or living snowmen.

“Thank god,” Peter said, giving her a pat on the back. “We were worried.”

“How did Kit get here before me?” Freddie asked, searching out his eyes in the crowd, but he wasn’t looking at her.

“You must have gotten separated when you landed,” Meg said, her teeth chattering. “Kit told us about your pack going missing, I think you both got knocked out and you rolled down the hill a ways.”

“What happened to the _plane?_ ” Benedick asked. “That’s what I’d like to know. Massive thing like that can’t exactly blow up unnoticed.”

“It can if there’s an equally massive snowstorm going on,” Bea observed, voice muffled from her scarf. “Visibility in snow like this? Nobody will have seen anything, and wherever the plane crashed it’s bound to be buried by morning.”

“We can talk about it inside,” Rosa said, pointing at the frozen cabin door. “Come on, let’s dig our way in there. Somebody contact MESSINA, tell them what happened, Costa won’t stop calling me.”

“Probably because he’s _worried_ ,” Ben huffed, giving her a dark look.

It took them an hour, fingers shaking and red with cold, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes, to unstick the frozen door. Freddie was the one who made the call to MESSINA, shakily explaining the plane crash and the cabin and everything that had happened in the last twenty minutes.

“ _S_ _o you’re telling me,_ ” Costa said slowly over the communicator, _“that somewhere in the Swiss Alps, there is an official MESSINA plane exploding? On fire?”_

“Yes,” Freddie said, shivering as a cool wind hit her face, “that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” Costa let out a long sigh.

“ _Well,_ ” he said, “ _I’ll talk to Maria in PR._ ”

 

-

 

When the door finally gave way they all tumbled backwards into the snow, one on top of the other like in an old cartoon.

“Welcome home,” Rosa winced, crawling her way out from under the pile.

“Fantastic,” Ben said, scrambling to his feet. He looked down, holding out a hand to Bea, which she pointedly ignored.   

He’d been hoping for warm beds, maybe a kettle, or at least an outlet for him to charge his phone. But as Benedick cast his gaze around the space in front of him, his face fell.

In Ben's eyes, “cabin” was too strong a word. It suggested some sort of place where people could live.

Frankly, he was amazed the place was still standing. It was about as small as the break room at MESSINA, lit by a single flickering bulb. There was a barebones kitchen, a few scraggly couches and a fireplace that looked like it had been built a hundred years ago. The old windows and rafters dripped with cobwebs, and Benedick could feel the floorboards creak under his feet like they were about to give way. Against the back wall, there were two doors leading to what he assumed were bedrooms, presumably just as crappy as the main room.

“ _This_ is your secret hideout?” He asked, astonished. “After all that talk about your fancy Swiss organization, _this_ is the best they could do?”

“What were you expecting, a palace?” Rosa grimaced, dumping her heavy pack and rubbing her shoulders uncomfortably. “It's discreet.”

“It's disgusting!” Ben retorted, dropping his own backpack and trying to untangle himself from his gear. “Does this place even have heat? Running water?”

“Ben…” Beatrice put a hand on his arm, looking exhausted, “let's just drop it, at least we have shelter.”

“For now!” Benedick said. “This roof looks like it could fall down if a snowflake landed on it the wrong way.”

“I kind of like it,” Kit said, glancing around, “It’s an adventure. It’s exciting.”

“Well I'm sorry it's not a five star Parisian hotel, or wherever you two stayed on your year of _luxury_ ,” Rosa sneered at Ben, “but in my experience, real spies know how to rough it once in awhile.”

“Both of you, shut up,” Peter said weakly, struggling to take off his snow boots.

“I once spent two weeks undercover living in a tent in the woods _Mountanto_ , you can stand to stay here for a day!” Rosa continued, undeterred.

“Oh my god, would you shut up about your mission hardships? Bea and I almost got killed in Greece, and I haven't mentioned it once.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“ENOUGH,” Freddie shouted, pushing her way through the crowded entryway to reach Rosa and Benedick, grabbing them both by their collars.

“What the hell!?”

“Freddie, _Jesus_ -”

“Listen,” Freddie said through gritted teeth - or maybe they were chattering from the cold, “if you two can't find a way to get along, I'm throwing you both down the goddamn mountain. Are we clear?”

Everyone watched in silence as Rosa and Ben stared daggers at each other, neither one wanting to back down first.

“On three,” Freddie said, “you will both nod in agreement. One, two, _three_.”

They both nodded (barely). Freddie sighed, letting them both go reluctantly.

“You both work for MESSINA. Act like it,” she said, turning away. “Okay, there are two bedrooms. Men can take that one, woman over here, that way we're even.”

“There's seven of us Freddie, it's never going to be even,” Meg smirked.

“Are you volunteering to sleep on the couch, Meg?” Freddie said, rounding on her. “Or maybe you'd rather go home?”

“Going home isn’t exactly an option,” Peter said grimly, “considering our only means of transportation just crashed into the side of a mountain.”

“I knew coming here was a mistake,” Beatrice said, letting her bag drop to the ground. “I’m gonna go lie down for awhile or something.”

“I will too,” Ben said, and Beatrice shot him a look.

“Seriously?” She asked.

“Please, take him,” Rosa rolled her eyes, and Freddie shot her a warning look.

“Whatever,” Bea grumbled, stalking off to one of the bedrooms, Benedick following after her.

“You know, this really isn’t so bad,” Meg observed, wandering into the kitchen area. “It’s kind of like a glorified slumber party.”

“A slumber party,” Kit grinned, and Freddie felt her heart twist at the sight of his smile, “I like it. Does that mean there’s gonna be a pillow fight later?”

“And s’mores!” Meg gave an excited clap, “and ghost stories!”

“I thought this was a spy mission,” Rosa scoffed, “not sleepaway camp.”

“C’mon, Rosa,” Kit nudged her, “we’re having an adventure! There’s no reason to be so upset.”

Freddie stilled. No reason to be upset? Really?

“I think I’m going to lie down too,” She announced. Kit didn’t even react. She felt the pain in her chest twist again, and the words spilled out of her before she could stop herself. “You really think this is a joke, Agent Harper?”

He stared at her, no sign of recognition, no sign that anything more than friendly glances had been shared between them.

“You really are something else, you know that?” She spat, marching into one of the bedrooms and slamming the door behind her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trigger warning for mild violence and gun use)

Despite being locked away and buried under blankets on one of the bottom bunks with her iPod cranked all the way up, Freddie could still hear Kit’s distinct, infectious laughter. He’d seemed so happy these past few days, so perfectly pleasant and ready to work – the same way he’d been since they’d fought, after she enforced the rules. And it wasn’t fair. She’d been moping and sulking since he’d walked away from her, burying herself in work, throwing herself into those stupid rules, and for what? A guy who claimed he loved her but then turned around and acted like he didn’t even know her? Like they’d never been anything more than pleasant work acquaintances?

Except… he’d kissed her, just before they jumped. _In case we die_ . That had to mean _something_. He’d kissed her, and now it was like it hadn’t even happened. When Rosa brought her up to the cabin, she thought she saw relief in Kit’s face, but he’d gone right back to being cold to her. Well, as cold as Kit could be – she was sure the others probably hadn’t noticed. But they didn’t know Kit like she did.

She’d wanted to talk to him about it, but there was nowhere in the cabin they could be alone. The walls were incredibly thin – Bea and Ben’s ferocious arguments were a testament to that. Despite the closed doors, they could hear everything – when Beatrice got particularly riled up, the windows even rattled. Meg’s solution had been for the rest of them play games to occupy to their time, like I Spy or Charades, and that’s when Freddie had excused herself. She couldn’t pretend to be happy when she had all this… _confusion_ inside of her. All this hurt. For once in her life, Freddie felt like she couldn’t be strong. It was awful.

She heard Kit say something, and the rest of the group howled with laughter, and that was about all Freddie could take. She kicked off her blankets, yanking out her earbuds as she went, and threw the door open. Everyone’s heads swiveled towards her in surprise, a few of them sharing worried glances.

“Uh, Freddie?” Peter asked, “are you okay?”

She remained frozen for a moment, eyes locked with Kit’s, waiting – wishing, hoping, practically _begging_ – for him to say something, but Kit’s face betrayed nothing. He was, as ever, completely calm and collected; his brow quirked almost expectantly.

And Freddie could feel all of her hurt and anger bubbling to the surface, exploding out of her all at once:

“ _Why don’t you care?!_ ”

“Care about what?” He replied coolly, “You made it pretty obvious there wasn’t anything for me to care about.”

“Nothing to care about? I am fucking _miserable_ ,” She shouted. “And I have been miserable every single second since you walked away from me! And you’ve been going on like nothing has changed, like you didn’t even _care!_ Why aren’t you sad? Why aren’t you _angry_ at me?! Why aren’t you _something?_ ”

“Freddie -”

“‘Oh, I’m Kitso Harper, I’m so _chill_ and _cool_ all the time, I don’t get attached to anything!’” She mocked, parading around the room doing an exaggerated impression, “‘Nothing bothers me ever! I’ve never had to work for anything a day in my life! I just wandered into a building one day and now I’m a super spy somehow trusted with national security level shit because I’m just _such a cool guy!_ ’”

“Okay, you want anger? You got it.” The others watched in various states of horror and confusion as Kit jumped out of his seat. “‘I’m Freddie Kingston and I’m super uptight all the time! My idea of a nice date is doing thorough paperwork and proofreading and fact checking each other’s reports! I’m basically a robot who has no idea how to express my feelings and no consideration for anyone else’s!’”

“That’s how you see me?” She asked, face falling. All the anger ran right out of her, and she just knew her eyes gave away everything she was feeling.

“Is that how _you_ see _me?_ ” He countered. He waited for a moment, and then another, but Freddie didn’t say a word. She _couldn’t_ , not now that she knew how he really felt. “You know what, maybe Bea was right. Maybe all of us coming up here was a mistake.”

“It was definitely a mistake,” came Bea’s voice. She and Ben had emerged from the other bedroom, her face fierce and his eyes rimmed red, as though he’d been crying. “In fact, we should just get out of here. Clearly sticking around isn’t doing any of us any good.”

“So that’s it, then?” Ben asked, “Things get tough so you’re just going to cut and run?”

“It’s not _cutting and running_ , Ben. I’m not happy here. Neither is Kit. _Or_ Meg. In fact, a lot of us are unhappy here, if any of you paid any attention -”

“I just think you’re rushing into things!” He argued, “You get ideas in your head and no one can tell you you’re wrong about them!”

“It’s called _trusting my gut_ , Benedick, and it’s always served me well before! I rushed into marrying you, are you saying _that_ was a mistake?”

It was like getting sucker punched. He stared at her, stunned, and apparently his silence was all she needed. In a flash, she was grabbing her jacket and boots, Meg and Kit right behind her, heading for the door.

“Beatrice, wait -”

But the three were already out of the cabin, slamming the door behind them.

 

**-**

 

Beatrice heard the door to the base burst open behind her, but she didn’t even bother to turn around. The bitter wind stung at her face, she’d forgotten her scarf inside, and hot tears threatened to overwhelm her, but none of that mattered. Right now she just needed to get as far away from Benedick as was humanly possible.

Meg was at her side, throwing the forgotten scarf around Bea’s shoulders like a mother hen and putting an arm around her as they marched away, Kit following close behind.

Beatrice thought she could hear Ben’s voice calling her name, but already the wind was drowning it out. She closed her eyes tight, willing herself to keep moving.

They were only twenty yards from the base when they heard the shot.

Beatrice turned around so fast she nearly toppled over. She knew the sound of a sniper rifle when she heard one.

The first thing, the _only_ thing she saw was Benedick, perfectly silhouetted against the light from the doorway. He stood frozen for only a fraction of a second before his legs buckled underneath him and his body slammed against the ground. _Hard._

Beatrice felt a million images rush through her head at once. Benedick on their first day at MESSINA, his hair still lovably scruffy even after three hours of training. Benedick’s face when she gave him a compass after their first mission, so he could always find his way back to her. Benedick asking her to run away with him, his eyes full of hope. Benedick, tying a bracelet around her wrist instead of slipping a ring on her finger on their wedding day, promising to love her forever.

And now Benedick, lying motionless in the snow.

Beatrice heard herself scream.

She began to sprint forward, all anger forgotten, when someone’s hand grabbed her arm with a grip like steel.

"BEATRICE,” Meg yelled over the wind, pointing up the mountain. “LOOK.”

But Beatrice couldn’t tear her eyes away from Benedick’s motionless body. Freddie had run to him, leaning over his chest, and Bea pulled against Meg’s hand with everything she had.

But a year away had made her rusty, and Meg pulled her back with a fierce tug.

“BEATRICE,” she yelled again, forcing Beatrice’s chin upwards. “ _AVALANCHE!_ ”

It was only then that she saw it; the towering, roaring mass of snow plummeting down the mountain straight for them.

“BENEDICK,” Bea cried hopelessly, reaching her free hand forward as if that would help.

“NO TIME,” Meg said, grabbing ahold of Kit, who was staring transfixed at Ben and Freddie. “IT’S DOWN THE MOUNTAIN OR NOTHING, KIDS.”

“ _BEN!_ ” Bea called again, as Meg pulled the two of them away from the base. There was no way they would make it there in time. She got one final glance back at her husband before she was forced to turn away, sprinting downwards with Meg’s hand still gripping her arm for dear life. Beatrice couldn’t stop herself tripping and stumbling, she could barely see between the dimming light and the tears now spilling down her face, but she could hear the rumble of the approaching snow. It sounded like the whole mountain was going to crumble beneath them.

“BRACE YOURSELVES!” Meg called, her grip tightening even more. “IT’S GONNA BE -”

And then Beatrice felt the snow hit her back like a brick wall.

       

**-**

 

“Lost contact again,” Paige announced. “There’s nothing but feedback on the headsets. That’s the third time since they got to the Alps.”

“And all the monitors have gone dark,” Chelsey sighed. “They’ll probably turn back on in a second. The team is in a spotty reception zone anyways.”

“I don’t think so, Chelsey. I think we’ve genuinely lost them this time. Look here!” Costa jumped up, leaping over Jaquie’s seat to reach the monitors. “You can see exactly where it happened. One minute they’re showing up, and the next! Poof! Gone! Like they’ve deliberately turned them off all at once.”

“Yeah, but why would they do that?” Balthazar frowned. They’d called him down immediately after the first time they lost contact, to see if he could handle the problem remotely.  “They know it’s not safe for them all to be off the grid at once.”

“It’s bold! Daring!” Costa pumped his fists for emphasis, as though he were punching each word out of the air. “A gutsy move, to be sure.”

“Hold on.” Jaquie pushed Costa aside, rewinding a few beats on the monitor, pointing at the seven dots on the screen. “They’re not all together when it happens. Here, look right before it cuts out.”

“Well spotted, Jaquie!” Costa commended, clapping her on the back. “It seems half of them charged ahead while the rest remained at base!”

“And _then_ they disappeared all at once?” Paige bit her lip, growing nervous. “What if they were attacked? If Cornwall got them to split up and then went after them -”

“I don’t think his team is that big,” Jaquie shook her head, “he tends to work with smaller groups, or at least he did when Bea and Ben were tailing him last.”

“How do you know that?” Balthazar asked, surprised.

“I read the case files,” She waved him off, “I like to know what I’m getting into.”

“Can someone get online and check the news reports for the area?” Costa requested.

“On it,” Chelsey chirped, followed almost immediately by: “shit.”

“What?” Paige came up behind her, leaning over her shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Oh, _shit_.”

“Avalanche,” Chelsey turned to the rest of them, “A ‘dry slab’ avalanche? I don’t know what that means, but I’m assuming it’s not good. It’s too soon to know anything else, like what caused it or how big, but...”

“Great,” Jaquie said dryly, “so they’re dead.”

“Jaquie, please,” Costa winced, “I’m sure they’re fine. They’ve undergone countless hours of training, they _must_ cover natural disasters at one point or another.”

“But they’re split up,” Balthazar said, unable to hide the growing worry from his voice, “and their communicators aren’t working.”

“So they may as well be dead,” Jaquie amended.

“Jaquie! Please!” Costa chided, “Could you perhaps be a little less ominous?”

“I, uh…” Balthazar trailed off, distracted. “I need to go. Get back to my department, see if there’s anything we can…” He didn’t finish his sentence - just bolted for the door without saying goodbye, clearly shaken.

“So what do we do?” Paige chewed at her lip nervously. “Call the police for the area? What’s the protocol here?”

“Well, Hero’s been named our boss for the duration of the mission,” Costa stroked his chin thoughtfully, “so I suppose we’ll have to ask her.”

“Is it even a question?” Jaquie frowned. “Kind of seems like there’s only one possible option.”

“We don’t have any real authority in this situation,” Chelsey reminded her. “Actually, come to think of it, we don’t have any real authority _ever_.”

“Come along, Worthies,” Costa gestured towards the door with one hand, snapping his fingers with the other. “Quickly, people! Time is of the essence! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

 

-

 

When she heard the shot, Freddie went into crisis mode.

 _Not Kit, not Kit, not Kit_ , she thought desperately as she burst out the door after Benedick, bracing herself for the worst.

At first glance, Freddie couldn't tell what had happened. Bea, Meg and Kit - thank god - were standing quite a distance away, all seemingly unharmed. But then her gaze fell downward on Benedick. His whole body was shaking, and the snow around him... God, he was already losing blood.

Freddie was at his side in seconds. The blood was concentrated around his head and shoulder, but there wasn't time to investigate further. She had already been out in the open too long, and clearly Ben wasn't dead... yet.

Freddie grabbed Ben under the armpits, dragging him back into the cabin as gently as she could. She could hear someone shouting in the distance, but it was hard to make out words.

“KIT,” she yelled, her voice already blowing away on the wind. “GET BACK INSIDE!”

Peter and Rosa were already at her side - they must have heard the shot.

“What happened?” Peter said, bending down quickly to check Ben's pulse.

“The others!” Freddie said, ignoring Peter and grabbing her coat. “Rosa, we have to -”

“Let's go,” Rosa already had a gun in her hand, and she tossed Freddie another. “Peter, can you-”

 

**_BOOM_ **

 

An enormous sound shook the cabin, a solid sheet of snow cascading down in front of the doorway.

“Whoa,” Rosa grabbed the door, slamming it tightly and turning the lock. “Oh _shit_ .”

“What are you DOING!?” Freddie gasped, making a grab for the door handle. “They'll _die_ out there!”

“He's alive,” Peter breathed from Ben's side. “His head must have hit a rock or something, he's unconscious.”

“Rosa, let me through,” Freddie commanded, but Rosa held firm. “We have to _let them in_!”

“LISTEN, Freddie,” Rosa shouted.

“Freddie, you have med training, help me out here,” Peter interjected.

“ _I have to go!_ ” Freddie shouted back at Rosa, her voice cracking.

“FREDDIE,” Rosa took her by the shoulders. “ _LISTEN_ .”

Freddie suddenly became aware of a loud, omnipresent roar engulfing the entire cabin. She could hear it in every direction, it practically shook the floor beneath her feet.

“What... what is that?” She stammered.

“An avalanche,” Rosa said, and Freddie felt her stomach drop. “An avalanche that's going to bury this cabin.”


	10. Chapter 10

All in all, the whole thing was over in under sixty seconds.

Sixty seconds. It took less than sixty seconds to lose Kit and Meg. Less than sixty seconds to bury Beatrice under five feet of snow. Less than sixty seconds for her whole world to fall apart.

She was knocked down and backwards, struck by the sheer force of the avalanche, snow filling her face, her coat, her lungs… but somehow she’d been able to grab hold to the trunk of a tree, locking her arms and legs around it, clinging as tightly as she could.

When it was over, when the rumbling had stopped and the danger had passed, Beatrice tried to remember what they’d reviewed before they left. _Remain calm. Carve out a pocket so you can breathe. Find out which way is up. Remain calm. Remain calm. Remain calm._

She took a breath, as deep as her little bubble of air would allow. Then, still holding tight to the tree, she began to climb upwards.

When she finally broke the surface, she was surprised at the stillness of it all. The whipping wind had completely calmed. There was nothing but crisp, white, undisturbed snow as far as she could see. There was no sign of life anywhere.

Instinctively, she went for her communicator, pressing buttons frantically.

“Hello?!” She pressed a few more times. “Lady Disdain to base – can anyone hear me?! Please! There’s been an avalanche – Ben was shot – somebody _please_ –”

But there was nothing but static in return. Base couldn’t hear her, _Ben_ couldn’t hear her, and no one outside of MESSINA even knew they were on the mountain. She had no idea where the cabin was, no idea where Kit and Meg had been carried off to, no idea the condition Ben was in… and no idea where _she_ was, or where to begin looking.

She was completely, utterly alone.

The cabin, though most certainly buried, was up the mountain. But help would be available _down_. If she could just get to other people, get more help… she’d have a better chance of finding everyone else. Of finding Ben, before…

Before something she could not let herself think about happened.

She took a shaky breath, steeling herself, and started down the mountain.

 

-

 

Hero’s face was white as a sheet as she listened to the Nine Worthies debrief her on the situation. At the words _avalanche_ and _lost contact_ , she felt her knees grow weak, and she had to sit down. They were only supposed to be gone for a few days – they’d promised her. Before she left, Beatrice had hugged her extra tightly and whispered _see you soon, okay?_

Hero had never truly had the disposition to be a spy – and she was the first to admit she’d gone soft (soft _er_ , Meg would have joked) since retiring. She’d been good at her job while she had it, to be sure, but it was never her calling. She did it because Leo had done it, and their mums had been so _proud_ of him, and she wanted to make them proud, too.

But then Leo had been let go from MESSINA after a near-disaster with his former partner Julie, and Hero saw the way their mums rallied around him to build him back up and support him in his new endeavors. That was the first time Hero had ever thought about leaving her life as a spy behind. She knew she could never tell Beatrice - Bea, who loved being a spy, who lived for their work, wouldn’t understand why Hero wanted to leave.

And then there had been the incident with Claudio, with their fraught relationship, which she’d been naïve enough to think might have eventually repaired the damage between MESSINA and ARAGON. And then John had gotten into Claudio’s head, and Hero had lost control, and –

Well, it hadn’t ended well. And that was the moment Hero knew for sure she had to leave this life behind. She still remembered how Beatrice embraced her, when Hero confessed _I’m not as strong as you are_. Beatrice stoked her hair and kissed her forehead and said _doing what’s right for you is strong, too._

Ever since she’d retired, she had lead a much quieter, happier life. She still saw the others, but they didn’t talk about work. She turned in her weapons, got a job as a preschool teacher, and vowed to never set foot in MESSINA again.

And yet here she was, sitting in Peter’s office, on the side of the desk she’d never been on before, hearing that all of her worst fears were coming true – that Beatrice and the others were in danger, that they might not make it back from a mission.

“Well?” Costa urged. “You’re our boss at present moment. What do we do?”

“I...” Hero felt her eyes welling up with tears, something awful twisting in her gut. Her own voice sounded so far away, so unlike herself. “I don’t know. I’m not authorized to make a decision like this.”

“ _Fuck_ authorizations,” Jaquie slammed her hand on the table. “The person who authorized you is trapped on a mountain and running out of time! You have to make a choice here!”

“Can we call the police? Are there… are there rangers on the mountain?” Hero was suddenly all too aware that she knew nothing about the mission, and even less about the location they’d gone to. Why hadn’t she done some research? She gripped the table so hard her knuckles went white, and she could feel herself breaking into a cold sweat. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“This is stupid,” Jaquie announced. “If no one else is going to make a call, I will.”

She stormed out of the office. The others exchanged wide-eyed glances, then chased after her down the hallway. They followed her back down the stairs and to the enormous, heavy doors that led to the armory. There were three metal locks on it, and then beneath that, a keypad.

“Jaquie, there’s no way we can get in there, we don’t have –” Costa was silenced by Jaquie’s glare, before she turned to Hero and plucked a bobby pin right from her hair, setting to work on the locks. There was a series of clicks, then she punched the wall to the left of them, and the locks clattered to the floor. Costa’s eyes had grown to the size of saucers, the appreciation on his face evident. “Jaquie Manders, you magnificent creature! I had no idea!”

“Can one of you hack this?” Jaquie ignored him, turning to Chelsey and Paige.

“ _Can_ we?” Chelsey scoffed. “Watch and learn.”

Jaquie stepped aside and Chelsey reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, handheld device. She plugged it into the keypad and her fingers flew across it, typing a mile a minute. There was a loud, terrifying series of beeps, then the doors gave a heavy creak, swinging open.

“You’re incredible, babe,” Paige beamed proudly at her wife, pulling her into a kiss.

“Not _now_ , lovebirds.” Jaquie shoved her way between them, strolling confidently down the aisles of the armory, taking things down from the walls as she went.

“Jaquie, what are you doing?” Hero finally found her voice again, growing frantic. “This is completely against every rule, only active spies are allowed in here!”

“You’re an active spy right now, aren’t you?” She pointed out, strapping a knife around her thigh. She considered the rest, then grabbed two more and rolled up her sleeve, strapping one to her wrist and one to her waist.

“Those are _Meg’s_!” Hero cried.

“Yeah, something tells me she’s not going to stop me,” Jaquie said flatly. “They’re in danger, we’re the only ones who know where they are, and you can’t make a decision. I’ll get them myself.”

“Brilliant!” Costa cried, and Chelsey squealed, clapping excitedly. The three of them followed Jaquie’s lead, stockpiling weapons. Paige grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows, her whole face lighting up; Chelsey grabbed a small silver pistol, testing the weight of it in her hands. Costa was affixing a grappling hook to his waist, then spotted one of Bea’s old snipers on the wall, smiling broadly as he reached for it.

Hero watched it all happen, utterly panic-stricken. But Jaquie was right – every minute she spent wasting time, not making a decision, the people she cared about were put in more and more danger. Hero didn’t have the stamina to be a spy, not anymore – but clearly Jaquie did.

“I have to stay,” She said finally, and Jaquie simply shrugged. “Someone’s got to keep things running here. But before you go, go see Balthazar and get yourselves some more communicators. _Better_ ones. The best ones he can get. I want you to update me hourly, okay?”

“Of course,” Paige nodded. “Don’t worry, Hero. We’ll bring them home safe.”

“Worthies!” Costa held the sniper with both hands over his head. “Let’s get out there and save our people!”

“Yeah, no. That is not a weapon for you.” Jaquie elbowed him swiftly in the ribs, catching the sniper easily when he dropped it, doubling over in pain. She checked the safety and made sure to hold it properly, aimed away from anyone else. “Right then. Let’s do this.”

 

**-**

 

Beatrice wasn’t sure how long she’d been walking when she saw it, but it felt like hours had  passed – someone in the distance, zooming up the mountain on a snowmobile. She ran towards them, waving her arms frantically over her head, calling out.

“Help!” She tripped over herself, falling down onto the snow, scrambling to get to them. “Help! Please!”

The snowmobile took a sharp turn, heading right towards her, and Beatrice let out a sob of relief. Once it got close enough, the man riding it jumped off and ran towards her, pulling a blanket from his backpack and wrapping it around her shoulders.

“Are you Beatrice Duke?” He asked, before she could even say anything.

“I – yes,” She stared at him, shaking her head in disbelief. “How do you know that?”

“I found your friends,” He explained, “or rather – they found me, and they said you were still out here. They were in no condition to come looking for you, so I did. I’m Boyet. Well, _Fred_ Boyet, but most people just call me –”

“Which friends?”  Bea grabbed his arm, eyes wide and desperate.

“Meg and Kitso,” He said, gently extracting himself from Bea’s grasp. “Listen, you’ve got to come with me. You’re going to freeze to death. I’ve got a chateau not too far from here, there’s plenty of room –”

“No!” She cried, “No, I can’t go with you – we’ve still got four people on the mountain somewhere, one of them has been shot, we’ve got to find them!”

“I already called the police,” He said, “Meg and Kit told me everything, and I called the authorities before coming to look for you. They’re arranging a search party, they’ll be combing the entire area looking for your friends soon.”

“I can’t leave without them!”

“Do you even know where to begin looking?”

“I…” Beatrice looked around wildly, but it was true. She had no idea how far she was from the cabin, whether it was completely buried or even still intact. There was no possible way she could even begin to _guess_ where it was.

“Beatrice, please. Come with me.” Boyet held his hand out to her. “Meg and Kit are worried sick about you. It’ll be easier to wait it out together. And if your friends are in a cabin, they’ll just be that much easier to find. The authorities will get to them before you know it, I’m sure.”

Beatrice took one last, long look at the mountain. It pained her to admit it, but Boyet was right. And at least if she was with Kit and Meg, they could hatch a plan. Between the three of them, they’d be able to find the others.

“Okay,” She said, allowing Boyet to help her onto the snowmobile, “let’s go.”

 

**-**

Freddie pulled Ben back into the bedroom with Rosa and Peter, being careful to hold his head steady.

“Give me some space,” Freddie ordered, bending down next to the bed. “Peter, can you get the -”

“First aid kit, I’m on it,” he finished, already halfway out the door.

“Rosa, can you contact base?” Freddie asked, placing a few pillows under Benedick’s feet to keep the blood flowing to his head.

“I’ve been _trying_ ,” she grimaced, “the avalanche must have messed with our systems, all I’m getting is static.”

“Well, _keep_ trying.”

Peter rushed back into the room; first aid kit in one hand, a damp cloth in the other.

“Thanks,” Freddie sighed, taking them both. “Peter, help Rosa.”

“Right,” he hesitated, staring at Ben. “Is he going to be… you know. Will he be okay?”

“When I know, I’ll tell you,” Freddie snapped, dabbing at the matted blood around Ben’s head, “but none of us will be okay unless you _call base_.”

“Come on, Peter,” Rosa grabbed his arm, tugging him away from the bed, “Freddie can handle it.”

The two hurried out, Peter taking one last glance back before leaving Freddie alone with Benedick.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to stop her hands from shaking. She couldn’t let herself panic - not while one of her agents was in immediate danger. _Focus on what you can control, Freddie_ , she thought desperately. _Everything else can come later._

Slowly, carefully, she began examining Ben.

Peter was right, Benedick had definitely hit his head on something when he fell. Freddie breathed a sigh of relief. If he had been shot in the head, there wouldn’t have been much she could do. She squinted, wiping more blood off his hair. It wasn’t a serious injury at all, just deep enough to bleed a lot and knock him out. It wasn’t life threatening. He would be okay.

So the question remained, where _had_ he been shot?

She took a step back, taking in the whole picture. Quickly, her eyes were drawn to a tear in the shoulder of his coat, the fabric turning red. _Bingo._

Freddie reached forward, gingerly peeling back his jacket to get a better look at the shirt underneath. It was tough to see without taking it off entirely, but she didn’t want to move his arm if he was seriously hurt. The dim, flickering lights weren’t doing what she needed them to, so she reached into her pocket, pulling out a mini flashlight and holding it between her teeth as she inspected his shoulder. If the bullet was still in his arm, she was going to have to act quickly.

But as Freddie looked harder, dabbing blood away from Ben’s shoulder, the bullet wound came into clearer view.

She let out the breath she’d been holding, sitting back on her knees in relief.

“Looks like whoever shot that gun has worse aim than you, Benedick,” she muttered, gently tugging his arm out of the jacket sleeve. The bullet had grazed the meatier part of his upper forearm, missing any major arteries or bones. “Falling over from a tiny bullet wound? Traveling made you soft, Mountanto.” She tore off a strip of bandage, tying it tightly around Ben’s arm to form a tourniquet.

He was lucky the bullet hadn’t hit any deeper, or lodged in his arm. As soon as she bandaged him up, Ben could be back in his feet in a matter of hours.

Which was more than she could say for Kit.

Freddie’s hands began to shake again, and she closed her eyes desperately. _Focus, Freddie. Keep it together._

Ben was still out cold, and as long as he was injured she would have work to distract her. Things to do.

“You’re going to be okay, Ben,” she breathed, pulling a blanket up over his torso for warmth. “I can promise you that.”

She bustled out of his room, making a beeline for the sink and giving her hands a good scrub.

“Is he okay?” Peter asked, bent over a communicator with Rosa at the kitchen table.

“He’s _fine_ ,” Freddie nodded. “Still unconscious, but the bullet just grazed his shoulder. I’m going back to bandage it up now.”

“Lucky bastard,” Rosa rolled her eyes, “I knew he was just being dramatic.”

“Rosa, shut up,” Peter grumbled, leaning back from the table and shooting the malfunctioning communicator a look of complete disgust. “You try getting shot in the shoulder.”

“I _was_ shot in the shoulder,” Rosa shot back, looking steely. “On a mission to Italy, I had a bullet lodged next to a major artery for a day and a half.”

“Save it, Rosa,” Freddie said, sharply. “We’ve got one agent down and three missing, frankly your health history isn’t very useful.”

“I can’t believe they didn’t tell me they were _married_ ,” Peter frowned, his mind elsewhere. “Did either of you know?” The two women shook their heads.

“That means they would’ve been exempt from the dating rule, too,” Rosa knit her brow, turning to Freddie with her sharp gaze. “Looks like the only one who was affected by that rule was _you_ , boss. Funny how you failed to disclose that.”

Freddie spun around, all her anger and frustration and worry turned straight at Rosa.

“I am still in charge, Rosa Jones,” she spat, walking towards her with balled fists. “If you want to keep your job, fix the fucking communicator. Otherwise you can get out, I’m sure _Italy_ would be glad to take you right back.”

“I’m just saying, it was a very hypocritical move!” Rosa argued, refusing to budge. “You make all of us follow your rules exactly, meanwhile you’re getting some action on the side -”

“You’d better stop talking unless you want another _bullet in your shoulder—”_

“Guys, come on,” Peter tried, “we don’t have time for this.”

Freddie ignored him, her whole body shaking with rage. She could feel that if provoked the wrong way, she would burst into sobs, but Rosa didn’t have to know that. Freddie was just weighing the pros and cons of firing her on the spot when a pained cry came from Ben’s room.

The three agents froze for a moment, all eyes falling on Freddie.

“Shit,” she whispered, bolting for the door.

Benedick was awake, his eyes scrunched tight shut, yelling every swear word Freddie had heard in her lifetime.  

“BEN,” she cried, grabbing the wash cloth and the bandages as Peter moved to hold his arms down, “CALM DOWN.”

“BEATRICE,” he shouted, and Freddie felt something icy fill her heart, “THE MOUNTAIN.”

“Ben stop it, you’ve been hurt,” Peter explained, his strong grip keeping Ben’s arms from flailing. “Freddie, _hurry up_.”

“I know,” she was already wiping blood away from the wound. “Rosa, I need more water.”

“Got it,” Rosa said, hurrying out of the room. Thankfully she still had enough decency to listen to Freddie in a crisis.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Ben shouted, jerking away as Freddie tried to clean his shoulder. “What the _hell_ —”

“Peter!” Freddie shot him an imploring look. “I need him to stay still!”

“Ben, pull yourself together,” Peter said, holding Ben’s arms down firmly. “I know it hurts, but it’ll be fine.”

“Where… where’s Beatrice?” Ben asked through gritted teeth, as Rosa hurried back into the room with the water.

“All we need you to do is hold still,” Peter insisted, while Freddie resumed cleaning the wound- she was almost ready to bandage it.

“Peter,” she said, warningly, “I have to put antiseptic on it.” He nodded glumly, tightening his hold on Ben.

“Wait, NO,” Benedick had heard her, “ _no no no no no no_ -”

“Sorry about this, Mountanto,” Freddie grimaced, “but it’s for your own good.”

She applied the cloth to his shoulder, and Benedick howled.

 

-

 

In any other circumstances, Boyet’s chateau would have been a lovely place to spend an evening. Spacious and comfortable, it had all the amenities you could wish for: half a dozen bedrooms, state of the art kitchen, outlets, cocoa, even a hot tub on the balcony. But at that moment, Kit would have given everything he had just to be back in Rosa’s dilapidated mountain top cabin, as long as it meant he was with Freddie.

“How’re you holding up?”

Meg’s hair was still wet from her shower, and she was wearing a pair of sweatpants Boyet had loaned her. There was a blanket wrapped around her, and she offered him half of it when she sat down on the other end of the couch.

“Not great,” He admitted, spreading the blanket across his lap.

“Yeah,” Meg mumbled, “me either.”

Despite the blanket, despite the heated living room, despite the cocoa warming his hands, Kit couldn’t stop shivering. He felt like he was back outside, like this whole house was a dream and he was still trapped under a mountain of snow, unable to breathe.

He should have done something. After Ben… after the shot, he’d been so shocked he couldn’t move. And then when Freddie ran out to help, he was too far away to really tell, but he could have sworn he saw her reach out to him. Why hadn’t he tried to run back? He could have made it, could have run straight into her arms and held her until the avalanche was over. Kit could still remember the tingle of her lips on his, _in case we die…_

Hell, maybe he should just be grateful he’d gotten to kiss her one last time.

“I’m sure Boyet will find her soon,” Meg said, and it took Kit a moment to realize she meant Beatrice. When they stumbled out into the snow after the avalanche, they’d tried to contact both Beatrice and the cabin, but they’d lost their communicators. Kit’s had been carelessly stuffed in his pocket. Meg’s had been torn right off her wrist when her glove came loose. It was amazing that _they’d_ been found, much less anyone else. “And once he finds her, we can find the others.”

“If they’re even –”

“Don’t.” Meg’s voice was soft, but something about her tone was so commanding, he had to listen. “Don’t talk like that, Kit.”

He let the words die on his tongue. An uncomfortable silence settled between them, Meg’s gaze locked on him, her eyes like searchlights, scanning his face for something.  

“So… you and Freddie, huh?”

He realized, suddenly, that it wasn’t a secret anymore. It hadn’t even occurred to him that by fighting in the cabin, they’d outed themselves to everyone. All those months, bending over backwards to make sure no one at work found out, and they’d gone and rendered it all worthless. Everybody knew. Not that there was even a relationship to hide, anymore.

He nodded slowly, his thoughts a million miles away.

“Me and Freddie.”

“It’ll be okay,” Meg said, though her voice didn’t have nearly the conviction he wished it did. “Beatrice will know what to do.”


	11. Chapter 11

As far as reunions went, theirs was pretty lackluster.

Beatrice _wanted_ to be happy that Meg and Kit were okay, to be happy that the three of them, at least, were together; but it wasn’t enough to give her any sort of relief. Boyet’s chateau was enormous and warm and expertly fortified, exactly the sort of place she would’ve been thrilled to be in, if things had been different. If the rest of the team was there, if _Ben_ was there… If she knew they were all safe, Boyet’s home would’ve been everything they could’ve asked for as a base of operations while they regrouped.

But she had no idea what kind of condition Ben was in, if he was even alive at all… she had no idea if she’d ever even _see_ him again. What if the last time she saw Ben was a fight? What if her last words were an accusation? _I rushed into marrying you, are you saying_ that _was a mistake?_

Instinctively, she reached for her bracelet. It never failed to make her feel safe and calm, reminding her of that sunny day in Spain, the morning Ben had woken up and said _do you know what I want to do today? I want to get married._ How they’d giggled all through the informal service, overcome with giddiness. Ben, surprising her later with the bracelets, tying it around her wrist while he murmured his vows in her ear: _until death do us part._

But when Beatrice’s fingers closed around her wrist, expecting to find the comfort of her woven bracelet, she found nothing but bare skin.

“ _No_ ,” She whispered, feeling something in the pit of her stomach drop. Her heart began to pound, a heat rising in her cheeks, panic setting in. “No, no, no, _please_ …” Frantically, she began patting down her pockets, checking the couch cushions around her. She could barely breathe – it came out of her in short, sharp gasps; and a sob was catching in her throat, tears springing in her eyes. “NononononononoNO! _NO!_ ”

“Beatrice!” Meg came running, Kit and Boyet hot on her heels. She caught Bea by the shoulders, twisting her body so she had to meet her eyes. _"What happened?_ ”

“My bracelet,” She choked out, “I – I can’t find it, my bracelet, I need it –”

“You probably lost it in the avalanche,” Boyet suggested, looking vaguely confused. “I’m sorry, Beatrice.”

“Nonono,” Beatrice shook her head vehemently, “I can’t, I can’t lose it!”

“Beatrice,” Meg squeezed Bea’s shoulders tighter, giving her a small jerk. “It’s just a bracelet.”

“It’s not, it’s not! It’s – me and Ben, it’s our – when we got married, instead of rings, we gave – the bracelet, I need it, Meg, _I have to find it_ –”

“Shh, Bea, shh,” Meg pulled Beatrice towards her, cradling her in her arms. Beatrice’s whole body shook with sobs, clinging to Meg like a life raft. Meg rubbed a hand up and down her back gently, and she shot a look at Boyet and Kit, eyes flickering towards the door. They nodded gravely and slipped out, leaving the two women alone. “Beatrice, babes, it’s going to be okay. Just breathe. We may not find the bracelet, but we’re going to find Benedick. Do you hear me? I promise you, we’re going to find him.”

“What if we don’t?” Beatrice whimpered, voice muffled by Meg’s shirt. Her breathing had gotten slower, at least – her sobs were still frantic, but there were pauses between, when she gulped in air. Meg ran a hand through Bea’s hair, pushing some renegade strands out of her face, and used her thumb to wipe away the tears.

“We _will,_ ” She vowed, voice filled with determination. “Have I ever broken a promise to you before?”

 

-

 

In the hours since the avalanche, the cabin had become eerily quiet. With snow piled up around them, blocking light and sound and any thought of escape, it had become its own small world. Like a snow globe, inverted.

Rosa and Peter had gone to sleep hours ago, both claiming beds in what used to be the women’s bedroom so Benedick could have some privacy. He’d been out cold since they bandaged his arm, still blissfully unaware of the magnitude of their situation.

Only Freddie was left awake, her nails bitten down to the quick, shivering in front of the fireplace. Kit had lit it hours ago, she’d watched his hands as he stacked the course logs, breathing fire and light into the dark room. He was so good at that, she’d always felt sparks illuminate her skin when he touched her. But the fire had died, and she’d broken match after match trying to light it again. _Useless_.

That was how she’d seen Kit, at first. She hated to admit it, now that everything about him was so perfect to her, but when he arrived at MESSINA, she didn’t think he would last two minutes.

He’d showed up about a month after she did, with a reference from Balthazar and practically nothing else. When she asked to see the forms he’d filled out, he just stared at her blankly.

“The… the what?”

“The forms?” she’d asked, already sleep deprived from weeks of hard work and not patient enough to deal with anyone, “doctor’s reports, written consent to background checks, previous work experience?” Kit looked aside awkwardly, considering his options.

“Oh. Well, I don’t have any of that.”

Freddie almost threw her clipboard at him.

If they hadn’t been short on spies, she would have pushed him right out the door and gone on with her day. But he had a glowing recommendation from Balthazar, and Peter seemed to like him, so she begrudgingly agreed to let him re-submit his papers and go through their entry testing.

She’d watched him saunter into the gym, looking like he’d never met a deadline in his life. He might have been showing up to a parent-teacher conference, or a yoga class, not a full on test of his strength and skill. He hadn’t even taken off his glasses. Freddie crossed her arms, eyebrow raised, ready to watch him hit the ground, hard.

So it had come as quite the shock when he flipped Peter easily.

Freddie had almost spit out her coffee, gazing in awe as Peter bounced back to his feet, giving Kit a solid high five. She watched him tie back his hair, pulling the dreadlocks into a knot behind his head as he laughed at something Peter said. That was the first time she’d seen Kit smile, his eyes crinkling up and his laugh audible through the window. Her eyes kept being drawn down to his mouth, and when he glanced over at her she looked down at her clipboard quickly, pretending she’d been scribbling notes the whole time.

But she told herself that was normal. She had every right to stare at a man who looked like a slam poet but fought like a trained spy.

It wasn’t until his marksmanship evaluation, when he hit every single target they threw at him in record time, that she felt herself getting nervous. Maybe it was her lack of sleep, or all the stress she’d been under, but Freddie couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to have his smile aimed at her.

They’d hired him, obviously, and after that she’d done her best to avoid him.

Sure, whatever, she would admit he was _cute_ , but she was also his boss. Nothing was allowed to happen between them, _ever_ ; the higher ups had been extremely clear about that when she was hired. Besides, she couldn’t imagine being with someone like Kitso Harper, and she was _sure_ he wasn’t interested in her.

And then…and then he’d just asked her out to drinks one day after work, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Slowly, carefully, she unclenched her fist. The small silver key was curled inside her fingers, dimly reflecting the fluorescent bulb that flickered above her. It was everything she’d wanted, and now… now she would never find that again.

Freddie could feel a sob building up in her throat again, and she didn’t even try to hold it back. She curled into herself, her shoulders shaking. It was good there weren’t any mirrors in the cabin, she couldn’t bear to see her face after the day she’d had.

There was a rustle in the other room. A bump, a quiet groan, and then -

“Beatrice?”

Freddie hiccuped, curling tighter into a ball. This was _not_ going to be her responsibility. She was already suffering enough with Kit missing, she didn’t want to watch someone else go through the same thing. How was she supposed to tell him that his girlfriend, that his _wife_ might be…

And anyway, she didn’t want Benedick to see her like this, the prat. She was pissed that he and Beatrice had kept a secret from her, just to be _difficult._ And if she really thought about it, yeah, she still hadn’t forgiven them for crashing her party. Beatrice was contrary, Benedick whined about everything, the two of them had been impossible to work with from the beginning.

Besides, Ben didn’t even _like_ her. Peter had known him longer than any of them, he should be the one to break the news.

“What the hell… hello? Guys?”

Fuck _everything._

Freddie rolled slowly out of her ball, her whole body feeling heavy as it made contact with the floor. She turned over, pushing herself up with a groan and stuffing the key back in her pocket.

Kit would know what to say, she thought, making her way reluctantly to Ben’s door. He excelled where she struggled, always there for others with a smile or a kind word. He could charm anything out of anyone with the right phrase, while she seemed to just drive people away the more she talked.

But the opposite didn’t work for her either. After all, _not_ saying things was exactly how she had lost Kit.

“Freddie,” Ben looked relieved to see her as she opened the door. _That_ was a first. “Where’s Beatrice?”

“Benedick,” She said, “I need you to stay calm.”

“What?” He frowned. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What happened?”

“There was an avalanche.” She felt fresh tears sting at her eyes as she said the words, reliving it all over again. “Beatrice, Meg, and Kitso… They didn’t make it back to the cabin in time.”

She watched Ben’s whole face change, his eyes widening, his mouth agape.

“What exactly are you saying?” He asked, his voice deadly quiet.

“I don’t _know_ what I’m saying,” she retorted, running her hand through her hair. She didn’t want to do this, replaying it in her head just made things worse. “All I know is that they aren’t here.”

“Well let’s go find them!” Ben jumped up, almost immediately falling back down and clutching his arm. “ _Fuck,_ what happened?” He looked back and forth between his bandages and Freddie, realization slowly dawning in his eyes. “…I got shot, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Freddie said, grabbing some bandages off the side table. It wasn’t really time to change his old ones yet, but she just needed something to do with her hands. “A few hours ago. You’ll be fine, you just got grazed.”

“ _Hours_?!” Ben jumped up again like a spring, still holding his damaged arm. “Why aren’t we out there looking for them? They could be trapped, or buried or—”

“Ben, sit down,” Freddie said tiredly, tugging on his uninjured arm, “don’t you think we’ve tried? We’re snowed in.”

“But the door—”

“Opens outward,” she finished. “And even if we could push it open, we don’t know how deeply we’re buried. Now would you sit down already and let me change your bandages?”

“I… I…” Ben stammered, he looked like a caffeine addict, jittery and unable to sit still. A lightning rod of pent up energy with nowhere to go. “…there’s got to be a way out.”

“Oh my god, fine,” Freddie slammed the bandages back down on the table, her voice cracking. “If you’re going to be an idiot then by all means, tear the cabin apart. Lose your damn arm to gangrene and see if I try to help you then.”

“Wait,” he said, before she could even get close to the door, “I’m sorry, this is just… this is a lot.”

It was his tone, and not his words that stopped Freddie from marching out of the room. That sound, the quiver in his voice, the way he couldn’t stop moving when he heard about Beatrice, it was all so familiar to her.

“I get it,” she mumbled, turning slowly to face him. She had never taken the time to meet his eyes before, not really, but when she did she felt the same pang that had stopped her from leaving the room. He looked like she felt, disbelieving and scared and anguished all at once. Horribly, _stupidly,_ it had never occurred to Freddie that she and Benedick might have something in common.

But there they were, two spies who might never see the people they loved again.

“If you sit down, I can change your bandages,” Freddie said, gentler now.

“And then we can think of a plan?” Benedick pressed. “A way out of here?”

“Don’t push your luck, Ben,” she said, the use of his real name surprising both of them. “I mean, _Mountanto_. Whoever you are.”

“Ben sounds good,” he shrugged, even grinning a little. “Whatever you want to call me, Fredster.”

And before she knew what she was doing, for the first time in hours, Freddie smiled.

 

-

 

Beatrice couldn’t sleep.

Boyet had invited them to rest until the police showed up, but Beatrice had quietly denied. Instead she sat in the kitchen, a mug of untouched cocoa held tightly in her hands. Really, she just wanted the warmth.

She stared miserably at the place on her wrist where her wedding bracelet had been. It had been four hours since the avalanche, and every hour was another jab in her heart.

 _It only takes fifteen minutes to die from a shot to the stomach,_ she kept repeating to herself. _Less, for a shot to the heart or head._ They had all learned the statistics in their emergency response training, something she’d given little thought to for a year, until now. _A shot to the lung can take anywhere from 25 minutes to 6 hours to kill you. A shot to any major artery could result in death by blood-loss in less than half an hour._

And every second she sat there, _useless_ , the chances were slimmer and slimmer that Ben had survived.

It was going to be a long night.

 

-

Kitso couldn’t sleep.

He lay on his back in the room Boyet had pointed him to; staring up at the ceiling, trying not to remember the warm, cozy bed he’d been sleeping in just a week ago.

It wasn’t working.

Freddie probably thought he was dead, by now. That’s what he would have thought if their places were switched. Kit hated it, knowing that she was probably out of her mind with worry because of him. You didn’t have to be her boyfriend (ex boyfriend?) to guess that. And sure, when he’d left the sliver apartment key on her desk, there was a part of him that wanted her to miss him. _Wanted_ her to feel the same hurt he was feeling.

Not like this though. _Never_ like this.

But hey, it could be worse. At least Freddie was definitely alive.

Unless…

Unless whoever shot Ben didn’t stop there.

It was going to be a long night.

 

-

 

Meg sat in the living room, drinking a very strong cup of coffee. She had no plans to sleep that night, not while her friends were still on that mountain. She had no idea what state they were in – the cabin they were staying in was so old, so small, and the avalanche had happened so quickly – there was a chance it might not even still be standing. And Ben…

She didn’t dare dwell on what might’ve happened to Ben.

She shuddered to think of the avalanche. When Beatrice was torn away from them, there was a part of her that was sure she’d never see her alive again. She and Kit had been luckier – they started running, trying to get out of the way of the avalanche, clinging to one another. When they’d gotten knocked down by the snow, they locked arms and held tight as they could. They were only buried by a few feet, and they’d been able to create a large pocket of air between them, so it was easier to crawl their way out. The snow had carried them like a wave, depositing them more than halfway down the mountain.

It was lucky they were able to find Boyet when they did – their lips had gone blue, and they were both pretty banged up. Meg was certain she’d sprained her wrist, and Kit thought he might’ve bruised some ribs. They spotted Boyet in their rush down the mountain, desperate to find help and a way to contact base. He’d immediately brought them back to his home, made sure they had anything they would need, and called the police for them so they could organize a search. Then he’d gone back out into the cold to search for Beatrice.

She thought he’d never find her, but he did. When she saw Beatrice staggering towards  the door, she went sprinting back out into the snow and caught her in a hug. Bea had barely reacted – just fell into Meg’s embrace and let herself cry. Meg wanted to cry right along with her, but between Kit and Beatrice, someone had to keep their head up – and if that task fell to her, then so be it. She could handle it. When it came to her friends, she could handle anything.

“Can’t sleep?”

Meg jolted in surprise. Boyet stood in the doorway, holding two cups of cocoa.

“Thought you might need another,” He said, holding one out to her. She took it, passing her empty mug back to him.

“Thanks,” she said. “For the cocoa and... well. For everything.”

“It’s the least I can do,” He insisted, “you’ve been through so much already.”

“When do the police get here?” She asked, cradling her mug.

“They might not for a few more hours. The weather has been so bad lately – a lot of roads are blocked off. It’s hard, this time of year. Never can tell what the weather will bring.” He tilted his head, a questioning look in his eye. “Come to think of it, we don’t usually get tourists this time of year – especially not this part of the alps. What brought you here?”

“Ski trip with some school mates,” Meg said, immediately reverting to the story they’d agreed upon back at MESSINA, before they’d left. “We all go to Uni together – one of our friends was in charge of organizing the trip. Never should’ve trusted him to plan it. But he said it was cheapest this time of year, so… here we are.”

“This must be a really scary, being separated from your friends,” Boyet said sympathetically.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “It is.”

“How many are still on the mountain?”

“Four,” Meg said, turning towards the window, as if she might see them there. “Four of them.”

“Right, well I’ll give you some space,” He said, turning to go, “please let me know if you need anything.”

She nodded dimly, and he left. She turned to look back out the window. It was too dark to see, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. She kept hoping, _wishing_ she’d see them appear, coming down the mountain to find them.

No, she wasn’t planning to go to sleep that night.

She never slept well in strange places, anyway.  


	12. Chapter 12

“So…” Freddie sat on the edge of Ben’s bed, unraveling his old bandage carefully, “you and Beatrice. You’re married?”   

“I wanted to tell you from the beginning,” He said quickly, “as soon as you made those rules. But Bea said it shouldn’t matter, and we shouldn’t _have_ to tell you, on principle. So…”

“Yeah,” She sighed, exhaustion creeping in. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”

“Might have made things easier if we’d just told you, though.”

“I don’t know,” She admitted, “I was pretty angry. I might have just tried to make another rule.”

Ben laughed, and she let out a weary chuckle. Her gaze dropped, and she glimpsed Ben’s left hand, his ring finger barren.

“You don’t wear rings,” She noted. Ben grinned, holding up his uninjured arm to display the bracelet on his wrist - small and colorful, just beginning to fray around the edges.

“That’s what these are. We’re not really ring people.” He shrugged, “and besides, we thought it wouldn’t be a good idea. Don’t need any super villains knowing we’re married, you know? Just one more thing for them to use against us.”

“That’s smart,” Freddie commended.

“Don’t sound surprised,” he smirked.

There was a silence between them as Freddie finished unwrapping his old bandages, getting another look at the place he’d been shot. The wound was still fresh, but it already looked better. It would still take him at least two weeks to heal completely, and it would be a long time before the soreness went away, but at least he would be able to use his arm.

It was nice, talking to Ben. She hadn’t realized, or maybe she just hadn’t _let_ herself realize, that they had any common ground. As awful as their situation was, it made her feel less alone somehow, to know that Ben was hurting too. She took comfort in the thought that he knew how it felt, to realize you might lose someone you cared so much about.

Freddie had read the case files, heard stories from Peter and Meg about how Benedick and Beatrice had been pitted against each other, how they were supposed to _kill_ each other. She thought about how many times she’d faulted them for running away, blaming them for MESSINA’s near downfall and the enormous pile of work they’d left behind for her to deal with. She wondered, for the first time, what she would have done in their situation.

“I’m dating Kit,” She burst out, wincing, “or – or I _was_ dating Kit. I don’t really know anymore.”

“ _That’s_ what earlier was all about!” Ben cried, realization dawning.  “Are you serious? For how long?”

“About seven months? Or at least, it’ll be seven months in a few days, if we’re still dating. Which… I’m not so sure we are…”

“Jesus, Freds.” Ben let out a low whistle. “That’s a long time to keep a secret.”

“That’s not the worst part,” she continued, the whole story spilling out of her like a waterfall, guilt written all across her face. “He… he told me he loved me.”

“ _What?!_ ” Ben stared at her, his mouth hanging open in surprise. “When?”

Freddie looked down and away, ashamed.

“…The night before I made the no dating rule,” She admitted.

“Freddie Lauren Kingston, what is _wrong_ with you?!”

“I don’t know! _I don’t know_!” She wailed, burying her face in her hands. She couldn’t even look at him. Here was someone who had given up everything in an instant just to be with the person he loved, and what had she done? Driven Kit away, just like she did with everyone else in her life.

The room fell silent for a moment as Freddie took a few deep breaths, slowly peeking out through her fingers at Benedick. He was still staring at her.

“Do you love him back?” He asked.

“That’s irrelevant.” She shook the hair out of her eyes. “I had a plan, Ben. A very detail oriented, precise plan. _Falling in love_ wasn’t supposed to happen until after I retire from being a spy at age thirty and go into politics. _Falling in love_ wasn’t supposed happen until I’ve had a secured government position for at least two years! _I had a plan!_ ”

Her whole body shook, her voice raised so loud that it rattled the walls of the rickety old cabin. Ben reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

“You know, Fredster,” He said glumly, “there are some things you just can’t plan for.”

 

**-**

 

It was Costa who led the way out of MESSINA, his long coat snapping in the breeze as the small team ran through the parking lot towards Jaquie’s jeep.

“Shotgun!” Chelsey chirped, practically running Costa over in her rush to grab the door handle.

“You _heard_ me call it first!” He protested, holding the door shut.

“I called it all the way back in the building!”

“Those aren’t the _rules_!”

“Babe, sit in the back with me,” Paige gave her wife doe eyes, and Chelsey was quick to concede.

“Fine Costa, you win,” she moved away, and he opened the door eagerly, jumping inside and slamming it shut in case she tried anything sneaky.

“Are you guys serious?” Jaquie rolled her eyes, putting her car into gear. “You have to be in sight of the car before you can call shotgun, everybody knows that.”

They screeched out of the MESSINA parking lot, Hero waving feebly at them from the doorway.

“ _PLEASE TRY TO BE CAREFUL!_ ” She yelled as they passed.

“Always,” Jaquie mumbled, turning a sharp right without signaling.

They sped along the street, Costa checking his phone for directions, repeatedly underestimating how close the next turn would be and making his phone redirect them.

“Where are we going again?” Paige asked, clinging to Chelsey’s arm. “And could we go there any _slower_?”

“I’m sorry,” Jaquie yelled, “I can’t hear you over the sound of our entire organization crumbling around us.”

“Oh, oh that was the turn. Sorry, again,” Costa said, frantically poking at his phone. “Damned thing isn’t working right.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jaquie made an illegal U turn, pitching everyone in the back seat sharply to the right.

“To answer your previous question, Paige,” Costa said, “we’re visiting an old _theatre_ buddy of mine. Great chap. Had a lot of solid ideas the world wasn’t ready for.”

“Eyes on the _PHONE,_ Costa!” Jaquie shouted exasperatedly, just barely missing a yellow light and running the red.

“Whoops! Sorry.” He swung back around in his seat. “The next turn is right - sorry, _left_. And… actually I think we just passed it. Hang on, it’ll re-route us.”

Jaquie mumbled viciously to herself, making another turn.

“Anyway,” Costa continued cheerily, “he owns a plane from back in the day, used to fly around and do shows in it.”

“You had a performance in a _plane_?” Chelsey gasped, eyes wide as saucers.

“Yes!” Costa proclaimed, like he was back on stage. “It was a modern twist on _Singing in the Rain._ Except instead of singing in the rain, we were _Flying in the Air._ It was truly one of our most successful two man shows. Well, it _would_ have been, but we couldn’t get the permits to actually take people up in the plane. Luckily, no one came. Great acting experience though, really rewarding for everyone involved. Oops, you’d better get on the freeway here, Jaquie.”

“What does he do now?” Paige asked as they bumped along, “still acting?”

“Oh no, not as much,” Costa shook his head. “No, Kel never saw it as a career, more of a hobby for him. He’s gotten way into the modern art scene, shipping fruits and vegetables around the world for weeks until they come back to him, all rotten and full of bugs. Some of the pictures he takes are truly—”

“Vomit inducing?” Jaquie offered, swerving around another car.

“Jaquie,” Chelsey scoffed, “be nice.”

“No, no, it’s quite alright,” Costa said, nodding vigorously, “any reaction to the art means that it’s touched your life in some way. That’s the beauty of it! Shipping veggies and fruits around the world in his plane brought an emotion out in you, and you haven’t even _seen_ it yet!”

Jaquie slammed the brakes, pulling off of the road and screeching to a halt. She turned slowly to face Costa, her eyes narrowed into slits.

“Are you trying to tell me,” she said, voice dangerously soft, “that we are about to take a 24 hour plane ride in some old junker full of _rotten food_?”

The car was dead silent for a moment, the three women eyeing Costa.

“Well, not exactly,” Costa sputtered, biting his lip. “I mean, I’m sure he’ll take all the food _out_.”

“Oh, Costa,” Paige sighed, putting her hands on her cheeks.

“These suckers better bow down when we save their asses,” Jaquie said, nearly colliding with a prius as she pulled back onto the road. “That, or pay us for our trouble.”

“We could always threaten to tell other people what we’ve seen on the cameras if they don’t,” Chelsey offered.

“Chels, that’s _extortion,_ ” Paige chastised.

“That’s what you always say,” Chelsey pouted, crossing her arms as the jeep sped off down the freeway.

 

**-**

 

“Hey,” Rosa hovered in the doorway, nervously eyeing Ben where he sat on the lower bunk, “can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” Ben said, “may as well continue this parade of heart to hearts, yeah?”

“Don’t worry,” She scoffed, leaning up against the bedpost, “I have no intention of us becoming bestest buddies, skipping through meadows and singing campfire songs or anything like that. I just wanted to… I don’t know, extend an olive branch, or whatever.”

“Yeah?” Ben gave her an appraising look.

“Yeah.” Rosa nodded. “Your life kind of sucks right now, and I can’t help but feel a _little_ responsible. I didn’t exactly make it easy for you when you came back. And I’m the one who gave Bea the idea to start a new org, which is why you’ve been fighting so much, right?”

“As much as I’d love to blame you for that, it wouldn’t have mattered,” Ben admitted, running a finger along his bracelet absently. “Whether or not she’s going to start a new org… I don’t think anything could keep Bea at MESSINA, at this point.”

“Well,” Rosa considered, “maybe that’s for the best, then.”

Ben nodded dully.

“I’m sorry, too,” He said, after a beat. “For being so hostile when we came back. I guess I was just… I was _intimidated_ by you. We’ve heard all those amazing stories from Balth, and then Bea and I came back and suddenly it was like you and Kit had replaced us, and I just… I acted out. Sorry.”

“S’okay,” She shrugged, “we were both asses. And as far as the stories from Balth, well. The truth of it is…” She winced, as though it pained her to go on. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I’ve never told anyone this.”

Ben raised his brows, intrigued.

“Told anyone what?”

“Ah… okay.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair, bracing herself. “The real reason I’ve worked for so many organizations is because I’m… how did my first boss put it… _‘notoriously difficult to work with’_.” Ben snorted, and Rosa rolled her eyes.

“You?” He managed to say, trying his best to be gracious, “ _Nah._ ”

“Hard to believe, I know,” She said, voice thick with sarcasm. “I just, I get really defensive about my ability as a spy. Maybe it’s from having so many siblings and feeling like I have to prove myself or something, I don’t know. That’s what my therapist thinks, anyway. When my last org tried to transfer me out, no one was willing to take me, given my track record. It was starting to seem like my career was over, but then Balth put in a good word with Freddie and Peter, and they were kind of desperate for spies at the time, so… that’s how I got here.”

“Wow, Rosa…” Ben faltered. “I honestly didn’t know. Balthazar told us you moved orgs a lot, but he made it seem like it was because you were this incredibly coveted spy.”

“He said that because that’s what I let him believe,” Rosa admitted. “I couldn’t tell my family that I was failing. And then you and Beatrice came back, and I was afraid that Freddie and Peter weren’t going to need me anymore. I felt threatened, so I lashed out. Just like I always do.”

“You’re not _failing._ You’re a good spy, Rosa,” Ben said, “really. No matter how desperate for people Freddie was, she wouldn’t keep you around if you weren’t efficient.”

“That’s true,” Rosa smirked. “That woman hates inefficiency more than she loves coffee. And that’s saying something. Have you ever seen her after she’s reorganized the case files? That’s the best time to ask her for a favor, she’s so blissed out.”

“Oh, it’s incredible,” Ben nodded, “It’s like a drug to her, I swear.”

“So hey,” Rosa grinned, “were you really attacked in Greece?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ben nodded emphatically, “these two spies from CHIMERA –”

“Ugh,” Rosa shuddered, “I almost worked for them once. Dodged a bullet there. So what happened?”

“Well, Bea and I were having dinner with this lovely couple – _or so we thought_ …”

 

-

 

“You three need anything? Hot chocolate? Snacks?” Boyet offered, his eager-to-please smile ever present, “I have a few more blankets in the closet, sorry about the cold.”

“I think we’re fine, Boyet,” Meg said, offering him a half hearted smile. She glanced over at her friends, sitting on the enormous living room couch. Kit had been staring blankly at the same spot on the wall for the past five minutes, and Bea… well, she’d been two seconds away from tears ever since the avalanche. “...On second thought, maybe some cocoa.”

“Brilliant,” He gave them each a concerned once over before bustling away in the direction of the kitchen. “Coming right up.”

“We could go help him,” Meg suggested, nudging Kit gently with her shoulder, “take our minds off things.”

Neither of them answered. Beatrice was fiddling with her communicator again, taking her earpiece in and out and frowning at it ferociously. There was a part of Meg that wanted grab her by the shoulders and shake some common sense into her, but she knew it wouldn’t accomplish anything. Beatrice had taken the loss of her bracelet pretty hard, she couldn’t blame her for creating a stand-in security blanket. Still, as far as Meg was concerned, Bea’s broken communicator was about as useful as the ones she and Kit had lost during the avalanche.

“Fine,” Meg sighed with defeat, standing up and giving Kit a quick shoulder squeeze, “I’ll go help him. You guys should at least _try_ to rest. I know you didn’t get any sleep last night.”

“Neither did you,” Bea mumbled, knocking her communicator against the side of the couch.

“True, but I’ve _ascended_ the need to sleep,” Meg smiled, wrapping Beatrice in a hug. “Promise me you’re staying hopeful.”

Beatrice let herself be embraced, leaning her head against Meg’s shoulder.

“You know I can’t promise you that.”

“Kit?” Meg gave him a questioning look. He gave a slow nod, but he didn’t meet her eyes.

“I’ll take it,” she said, heading towards the kitchen. “I’ll be back with delicious hot chocolate - don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”  

 

-

 

Beatrice genuinely could not believe that a highly professional spy organization like MESSINA, an organization that put millions of dollars into technology development every year, an organization that was _supposed_ to be at the forefront of innovation, had produced the truly shitty piece of technology that was the communicator watch. One avalanche, a few bumps and bruises, and the whole thing shut down for good?

The next time she saw Balthazar, she was gonna kill him.

“Highly advanced technology my ass,” she spat, putting her communicator back in the mason jar of rice Boyet had given her in an attempt to suck out any excess moisture.

“Mmm,” Kit nodded, his mind clearly miles away. Bea stared at his vacant, pining expression, and she started to feel herself getting angry. It wasn’t like his _secret girlfriend_ had been hurt right in front of his eyes. _He_ didn’t have to ask himself if he’d watched her die. He had every reason to think she was perfectly happy and alive, taking care of herself back at base until help arrived. Hell, she was probably making a whole new set of rules for the cabin. _Decree number 1598: snow angels are expressly prohibited by the co-leader of this base, FREDDIE KINGSTON. Addendum: all fun is also banned._

“What do you even see in her?” Beatrice asked, before she could stop herself. “I mean, _she’s_ so…” She made an enormous sweeping gesture with her hands, baring her teeth as though imitating a monster. “And _you’re_ all…” She trailed off as Kit finally looked away from the window, turning to face her.

She had gone too far this time, and she knew it. She braced herself for the expression on Kit’s face...

But to her surprise, he didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked unbelievably thoughtful, carefully considering his response.

“You mean, she’s always living up _here,_ ” Kit gestured way above his head, “and I tend to be a little more…” he used his other hand to gesture down at the floor.

“ _Yes_ ,” Bea breathed, relieved he didn’t seem to hate her. “I mean, how… how did that even _start?_ ”

Kit let a smile pass by his lips for a moment, some happy memory clearly stirring in his head.

“It started with music, I guess.” He said, slowly. “And then it just… didn’t ever stop.”


	13. INTERLUDE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ONE YEAR EARLIER...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of gun use, but no violence.

Kit had only been at MESSINA for a month, but he was already more exhausted than he’d ever thought possible. He was mentally worn down from all his vigorous entry exams and background checks, his side ached from where Meg had kicked him in training and worst of all, he _still_ couldn’t comprehend MESSINA’s complicated layout. It was hard enough to find his way around in the daytime, but at night? There weren’t even any staff members around for him to ask directions.

He was just glancing at his phone, hoping he could make it out of the building by curfew, when he heard it:

Music.

Kit’s spirits lifted. Where there was music, there were people. He could practically feel himself snuggling down into his warm bed as he followed the sound, scaling a flight of stairs and keeping his eyes peeled for anyone who could show him the way out of the building.

He wasn’t even paying much attention to where he was going until he reached an area he’d only seen in passing. Kit came to a halt. The music was clearly coming through an office door in front of him, half-open. He _knew_ that office. But there was no way…

He squinted, peeking through the doorway until he caught sight of a figure in the room beyond.

It was his boss, and she was dancing.

Any thoughts in Kit’s head floated away as he stood in the doorway, transfixed at the sight. Freddie Kingston didn’t dance. In the short time that he’d known her, Kit had never seen her give anyone so much as a smile. She was always up to her elbows in paperwork, rubbing her temples in exasperation or walking briskly through the halls like she had a million places to be.The friendliest gesture she’d ever given him was a short, approving nod.

But this woman dancing in her office was an entirely different person. It wasn’t choreographed dancing by any means, or something you would call professional. It was just… Kit couldn’t come up with a word for what it was. It was like the song was flowing through her, like she was letting the beat dictate her movements. Her red hair was out of its usual ponytail, bouncing around her shoulders, and as she danced her face suddenly came into view.

Her eyes were closed, and she was smiling wider than Kit had ever thought possible. For a moment, it was like time slowed down. This was the dance of someone who was entirely, blissfully un-watched. Someone completely uninhibited. Kit couldn’t help but look on in awe at this mystery version of Freddie he had never seen. As he felt something gentle tug at his chest, Kit wondered if she had been there all along, and he just hadn’t been looking hard enough...

And suddenly, the song ended.

Freddie bounced up and down a few times, the momentum still keeping her going, and then stopped. As she turned towards her desk, reaching around to pull her hair back into a ponytail, Kit felt his stomach drop. She _wasn’t_ un-watched. If she saw him standing there… well. He couldn’t let that happen.

The spell broken, Kit ducked quickly around a corner and out of sight. He caught his breath, his brain still fixated on what he’d just seen. Never in a million years would he have pegged Freddie Kingston as a _dancer_ . Freddie Kingston, the woman who had single handedly rebooted the entire organization. Freddie Kingston, whose vigorous system of rules had everyone grumbling about unfairness _daily._ Freddie Kingston who was stiff and uncompromising as she patrolled the halls of MESSINA. Freddie Kingston… whose hair looked like fire when she danced.

Before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, Kit walked back around the corner and knocked on Freddie’s doorframe.

She jumped about a foot in the air, grabbing her iPhone off her desk and whirling around, the glare back in her eyes.

“Sorry!” Kit said, throwing his hands in the air. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Freddie squinted as Kit took a step into the light.

“Agent Harper?” she asked, like she wasn’t sure weather to be relieved or pissed off, “what… what are you doing here so late?”

“Ah, you know,” he shrugged, slowly lowering his hands and putting them his pockets. “Working late on some paperwork. I actually got lost, these halls are a bit of a maze for me so far. I know I’ll get it eventually, but…”

He trailed off, his eyes still searching her face for any sign of the person he’d seen dancing a minute ago. He would’ve wondered if it was all a dream, if not for the wireless speakers on her desk and the phone she was still brandishing at him.

“Well,” she said stiffly, “you’re way off course.”

Kit grinned.

“I figured as much,” he said, shrugging again. “I don’t suppose you would mind showing me to the door?”

There was a brief pause. Kit tried smiling at her, but it didn’t seem to make a difference.

“No,” Freddie said, stuffing her phone back in her pocket and reaching for her coat. “I mean yes, that’s fine, I was just about to leave anyway—”

“Would you like to get a drink?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Freddie stared at him as though he’d grown another head.

“Would I… would I what?” she stammered.

“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping bounds,” Kit said, quietly kicking himself for not choosing a better moment. “I don’t know if bosses are allowed to get drinks with their employees, and we don’t know each other very well, but I just thought, you know. I could definitely go for a drink, and I’d love to repay the favor of you giving me directions out of here, so…” he trailed off.

For a moment, Kit was fairly certain she was going to punch him.

“Well...” Freddie glanced over at the clock in her office. “I have a meeting tomorrow morning.”

He was surprised at the rush of disappointment he felt..

“Oh.”

“...But it’s not until ten.”

“So you’ll come?” Kit asked, his spirits lifting.

“You know what?” Freddie said, her eyes meeting his, “I could _really_ use a drink.”

 

-

 

“Where are we even going?” Freddie pulled her jacket tighter around herself, casting a nervous glance around the near-empty street. “I don’t even know where we _are_.”

“It’s this little hole in the wall place,” Kit said, “you have to know about it to find it.”

“Sounds like the perfect place for a crime lord to hide out,” She huffed, which made Kit laugh.

“No crime lords, I promise. Just good people who want to relax and have a drink without being bothered by anyone. I figured that’s exactly your sort of place.”

After another block or two, they finally reached their destination – a dark green door with no sign, no hint of welcoming, in a narrow alley between two brick buildings. Kit opened the door and placed a hand on the small of her back, ushering her inside. She gave a startled jump at the sudden contact, face going red as she stepped away. Kit didn’t let it bother him – just stuck his hand back in his pocket and followed her to a table in the back corner.

He watched with a bemused smile as she looked around the bar, taking it all in. There were ten or so people scattered about, some of them together, some alone. The booths were big and comfortable, and there were fairy lights running across the walls, casting a lovely glow throughout the whole place. He could swear he saw her shoulders relaxing, as if someone had wrapped a blanket around her.

“I’ve got to hand it to you,” She admitted, “This is _exactly_ my kind of place.”

“I thought it might be,” He smiled. “I’ll get us some drinks. What’ll you have?”

“Whiskey, neat.” She replied automatically. “Whatever’s cheapest, I don’t care.”

Of course she drank whiskey, he chuckled to himself. He should’ve guessed.

He chatted with the bartender for a few minutes before returning to the table, carrying a whiskey for her and something pink with pineapples and an umbrella sticking out of it for himself.

“ _That’s_ your drink of choice?” She asked, eyes lighting up, clearly delighted. “I had you pegged for a beer guy.”

“Look, all I know is, _that_ stuff –” he pointed at her drink “- burns all the way down. _This_ , however? Fruity and delicious. What’s not to love?”

“Well, cheers to that,” She held up her glass and Kit clinked his against it before they both took a long sip. “So. Kitso. How are you liking MESSINA?”

“Ah, come on,” He protested, “we’re off the clock! No work talk, Kingston.”

Freddie’s gaze immediately dropped to the table, the tension returning to her shoulders.

“Work is… kind of the only thing I know how to talk about,” She admitted. “I mean, It’s where I spend all of my time lately. Rebuilding an empire and all that. Doesn’t leave much time for a social life.”

“Huh,” Kit said, regarding her with careful consideration, “Well, in that case, I’m really enjoying my time at MESSINA so far.”

“You’re not going to tell me I need to relax?” Freddie asked hesitantly, “Or that I need to loosen up?” Kit frowned, shaking his head.

“Seems like a pretty rude thing to say.”

“ _Thank you._ It is a rude thing to say!” She cried, throwing her hands up in frustration. “I’m trying to rebuild the literal shambles of what was once an amazing organization, I have a right to be this way!”

“When did they hire you on?” Kit asked. “I mean, I know I’ve only been here a little while, but it’s hard to believe it was ever in _shambles_. It seems so… organized. Clinical.”

“It’s _efficient_ ,” She said, and he nodded. ‘Efficient’ was one word for it, certainly. He could think of a few others, but he didn’t think they’d go over well with her. “They hired me about a month before we brought you and Agent Jones in for recruitment. I don’t think I slept more than a handful of hours that whole time. I was running on caffeine and sheer force of will for a while there. We were practically hemorrhaging employees – they had an agent retire, an agent defect to another organization, an agent abandon the org with no notice whatsoever… Peter and I were in complete overhaul. It was a mess.” She shook her head, as though trying to clear the memory, and downed the rest of her drink in one gulp.

“Wow,” he said appreciatively, “That’s a lot to deal with.”

“It’s fine. It’s what I’m good at. But that reminds me, I’ve always wanted to ask – how did _you_ get invited to recruitment? No offense!” She backtracked quickly, and Kit quirked an eyebrow, bemused. “You’re doing really well and you seem like you’re going to make a great spy! But I looked at your file, and you have like, _zero_ background in this.”

“No offense taken,” He laughed. It wasn’t exactly a mystery what Freddie’s first impression of him had been – she hadn’t hid it very well. “It’s kind of a weird story, I guess. You must know Balthazar down in tech, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well, we were actually on a date –”

“Oh,” Freddie leaned back, surprised. “Are you two a thing? Because that’s something you should’ve cleared with us when we hired you.”

“No, no, we only went out like, twice,” Kit assured her, “we realized pretty quickly we’d be better as friends. But we happened to be on a date, and he needed to duck into the bank because he didn’t have any cash on him, and while we were waiting in line these two men came in with masks and guns, and they start taking us all hostage, you know, as you do when you’re a bank robber.”

“Of course,” She nodded seriously, “classic bank robber.”

“So once we’re all tied up, they take one of the bank tellers and get her to lead them to the vaults. And everyone seems to be panicking, except Balth kept saying if he could get to his phone, he could call for backup – and of course, at the time, I knew he worked in tech but had no idea it was the tech department for a top secret spy organization.” He paused to take another sip of his drink. Freddie was leaned forward, elbows propped up on the table, enthralled. “And I figured, if I could just talk to these guys, it’ll be fine. I knew I could reason with them.”

“Reason with _bank robbers?_ ” Freddie made a face. “They’re not exactly reasonable people, Kit.”

“Anyone can be reasoned with,” He shrugged, “you just have to know how to handle them. So I managed to get myself untied, and I untied Balth so he could help the others, and I followed the guys into the vaults. They both had their guns pointed at the woman, and she’s just dumping money into these duffle bags, clearly distressed, right? So I said hi.”

“ _Hi?_ ” She parroted, disbelieving, “You walked up to two armed men and you said _hi?_ ”

“Seemed like a better idea than ‘stop! Thief!’” He said, and Freddie snorted. “So they both turned around and started yelling, like _how did you get out, get on the ground_ , all that stuff. So I just put up my hands and suggested we let the hostages go and talk it out. They weren’t too keen on that, as you can probably imagine. So one of them started coming towards me, and I guess my instincts just took over, because I just grabbed the first guy by the arm, twisted it behind his back, and grabbed his gun.”

“What happened to _reasoning with them?_ ” Freddie teased, and Kit grinned broadly at her.

“Sometimes it’s easier to reason with people when there’s a gun at their head.”

“Fair enough,” She laughed, “so then what happened?”

“Nothing. I told the other guy to drop his gun, and he did – this was all sheer dumb luck, by the way. I’d never held a gun before in my life, much less shot one.”

“Are you serious?” Freddie’s jaw dropped. “But you’ve got the steadiest hand I’ve ever seen!”

“Completely serious,” He said, “never in my life. But I knew that people were counting on me. Fake it til you make it - that’s the motto. You just gotta roll with it. So he dropped his gun, and I took that too, and I waited with them until the cops arrived. We actually had a pretty good talk. They weren’t bad people, you know? They were just in a desperate situation.”

“Kit, they might’ve killed all of those people if it weren’t for you! At the very least, they were going to steal all that money!”

Kit finished off his drink, shrugging.

“Everyone’s got a story.”

“You are…” She shook her head, a fond smile on her face. “You are one of a kind, you know that?”

Kit grinned, pleased at her words.

“So anyway, Balthazar saw the whole thing, apparently, and he called up Peter and said he had to bring me in for recruitment, and it seemed like a cool opportunity, so… here I am.”

“Here you are.”

Their eyes locked across the table, and Freddie’s face tinged pink – though he wasn’t sure if that was because she was blushing, or because she drank her whiskey so quickly. For a brief moment, it looked like she was going to say something more, but then someone at another table dropped their glass, and she balked at the sound. Whatever moment they’d just had – if he could even call it a moment at all – was over.

“It’s getting really late,” She said hurriedly, jumping out of her seat, “I – I really should go. Thanks for the drink. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Do you need me to walk you home?” Kit asked, reaching for his coat.

“I’ve got it, thanks!” She called over her shoulder, already halfway out the door. She let it slam behind her, and Kit sank back down in the booth, alone again. But he didn’t mind - because Freddie Kingston had smiled right at him. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

 

-

 

Kit had always been the type to quietly observe the world around him. There were a lot of things he found out about people, about life in general, just by looking. Maybe it was all the Sherlock Holmes novels he’d read as a kid, or the fact that he had grown up around five _extremely_ talkative older siblings.

No matter the reason, it didn’t take a genius to notice the disdainful face Freddie Kingston made whenever she drank the cheap office coffee.

Clearly she _liked_ coffee, it was rare to see her without a mug in her hand, but every time she took a sip her entire face scrunched up in distaste.

He’d been a barista for three years in high school, so it pained him to see _anyone_ drinking bad coffee, but for reasons he was still sorting out in his head, it was especially hard to watch Freddie struggle.

In most cases, he wouldn’t have been so presumptuous, but he screwed up his courage and intercepted Freddie one morning at work before everyone else showed up.

“Oh! Morning,” Freddie said when she saw him, her cheeks turning red - or maybe that was from the cold outside. “You’re here early.”

“Yeah, well,” Kit shrugged, “couldn’t sleep.”

“Tell me about it,” Freddie sighed, running a hand through through her hair. “I was just going to get some coffee, you want some?”

“Weirdly enough, I thought _you_ might want some,” Kit said, pulling a travel mug from behind his back and holding it out to her.

She stared at it, expressionless. He could have sworn he saw her cheeks get redder.

“You… you got this for me?”

“Made it, actually,” Kit said. “I had extra this morning, didn’t want it to go to waste, so… here I am.”

“I… this is so nice of you Kit, really,” Freddie stammered, reaching forward to take the mug; he felt a shiver go down his spine as their fingers brushed. “I mean, you didn’t have to do that, there’s coffee in the building.”

“Yeah but, come on,” Kit made a face, “not the best, am I right?”

“Oh my god, you’re _so_ right,” Freddie rolled her eyes, drawing Kit’s attention to her eyebrows - they were undeniably cute. Since when had he started considering _eyebrows_ to be cute?

 _She’s your boss, Kitso,_ a small voice in his head whispered, as Freddie continued to insult the awful coffee. _That’s all you’ll ever be to her, just another employee._

“And of course I tried to change it, but guess what?” Freddie continued. “The damn coffee maker is the only thing Peter would not budge on. Ridiculous.”

She took a careful sip of coffee, with an expression like she had more to say, when her eyes became very round. He caught his breath - did she hate it?

“Oh my god, Kitso,” she breathed, staring at him disbelievingly, “this is _amazing_.”

“Good,” He smiled, “I was hoping you’d think so.”

From then on, when Freddie came in to work, there was a steaming cup of coffee waiting on her desk.

 

-

 

In the end, it was Freddie who kissed him first.

He’d wanted to kiss her for months – he’d wanted to kiss her since he saw her dancing in her office, unguarded, uninhibited, looking _free_ for the first time since he’d met her. He wanted to kiss her that night, when they went out for drinks. He wanted to kiss her at work the next morning, when she caught his eye during a meeting and blushed when he smiled at her. He wanted to kiss her when she invited him to her apartment for a movie night, fidgeting nervously, stumbling over her words. He wanted to kiss her after training, when everyone else had gone and she challenged him to a race, beating him easily. He wanted to kiss her a million different times.

But if there was one thing Kitso Maatla Harper was good at, it was biding his time. He never rushed anything, never let himself get stressed out, never felt the need to put pressure on himself or others. He was unendingly, unfailingly patient. And if there was one thing he’d learned about Freddie, it’s that she was the opposite. She was a tightly wound spring, someone who fed off of deadlines and rules, who thrived under pressure. It was one of the things he admired most about her, actually – she was so passionate, so driven, so dedicated to her work. It was incredible to see her in action.

But he’d also gotten to know the secret side of Freddie Kingston: the goofy, awkward, absolutely ridiculous woman who created personalities and voices for her kitchen appliances, who knew every line to _The Blues Brothers_ , who baked him a (truly terrible) cake on his birthday and handmade him a card to go with it.

So he didn’t mind waiting. Freddie Kingston was someone worth waiting for.  

Almost exactly three months after he first saw her dancing in her office, Freddie showed up on his doorstep at two in the morning.

“My whole life, I’ve never done a single stupid, reckless thing,” She said, the moment he opened the door. Kit raised his brow.

“Do you want to come inside?”

“Not yet.” She shook her head. “I have to say this first. And if you could please hold your questions and comments until the end, that would be great.”

“Okay,” He grinned - that was so quintessentially _Freddie._ “I’m listening.”

“My whole life, I’ve never done a single stupid, reckless thing. I’ve always played by the rules. I work hard and I do what’s expected of me and that’s fine! It’s what I wanted. It’s what I’ve _always_ wanted.” She took a deep breath. “Until now.”

Kit waited a beat. “Is that the end?”

“Not quite.” She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I know that I’m your boss, and I know that this is totally unethical and there’s an entire _chapter_ in the employee handbook about how this isn’t allowed to happen, but… I like you, Kitso. I really, really like you. Like… more than I’ve ever liked anyone before, in my whole life.”

Kit had seen Freddie dodge literal bullets. He’d watched her in hand-to-hand combat with men twice her size, and she’d never once looked afraid or even frazzled. But right now, standing before him, laying everything out on the line – well, she looked downright terrified.

“I like you too, Freddie Kingston.”

“Really?” All the fear in her face melted away, a look of utter disbelief taking its place. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his smile reaching all the way to his ears. “I really, really do.”

“We can’t tell anyone at work,” she warned. “It’ll have to be a secret.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I almost always work late and I get stressed out easily,” She pressed, “I’m horrible to be around when that happens.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is!”

“It’s very _rarely_ true,” Kit chuckled, unable to take his eyes off her.

“And you still want to be with me?”

“Freddie,” he said, “there’s nothing you could say to make me stop.”

And then Freddie took a tentative step towards him, followed by another, and another.

Kit waited.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe.

Kit waited.

She tilted her head up towards him, a questioning look in her eye.

Kit waited.

And finally – _finally –_ she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his.

 

It was worth the wait.

 

-

 

“Gotcha!” Rosa gasped, pinning Kit to the ground. “Come on Harper, I’ve seen you do better than that.”

“That’s fair,” Kid said, his voice slightly muffled. “I’ll get you next time.”

She held him there another moment before conceding, shaking hair away from her eyes. Kit rolled out of her grasp, springing to his feet and rubbing his neck absently. It was the start of their second hour in the MESSINA training gym, and his win-to-loss ratio was looking pretty bad.

“What’s going on with you?” Rosa asked, retying her ponytail. “You look awful.”

“Thanks, Rosa,” Kit smiled. “Just up late, I guess.”

He really had been. But how could he have been expected to rest when that morning, a beautiful woman had shown up on his doorstep to kiss him? Like anyone would’ve been able to fall asleep after that.

“We used to have really strict curfews when I worked in Russia,” Rosa said thoughtfully. “We had to keep a record of all the hours we slept, and if it wasn’t enough we weren’t allowed to come into work.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Kit smiled, taking a fighting stance. “Ready?”

“Absolutely,” Rosa grinned. “Are _you_?”

“I’ll do my best,” he shrugged.

Rosa came at him before he had finished the sentence, sending a roundhouse kick swinging at his head. Instinctively he ducked it, pushing her leg away to throw her off balance. It worked; she went toppling to the floor in an instant.

“ _Ow,_ ” she coughed. “Good one, I guess.”

Kit ran over to help her up, gently brushing dust off her shoulder pads.

“Nothing broken?” he asked.

“Are you joking?” Rosa scoffed. “We used to take practice falls like that all the time when I worked in Europe, I’m used to it.”

“Cool,” Kit said, though one look at her face told him she was in more pain than she was letting on. “I’m beat, you want to call it a day and grab some water?”

“Well… yeah, sure,” Rosa shrugged, rubbing a hand across her ribs. “I mean, if you’re leaving, there’s nothing left for me to do here.”

They packed up their gear, walking in silence together until they reached the closest drinking fountain. A few of the newer recruits (some tech people Freddie had just hired) passed them, laughing uproariously at something. Rosa eyed them as they walked by, pursing her lips.

“That blond guy, what’s his name,” she said, “I heard him yesterday in the break room, talking about how hot he thinks Freddie is.”

Kit paused, considering his words carefully.

“Really?” was all he could come up with.

“Yeah,” Rosa said, still following the group of newbies with her eyes as they turned a corner. “I wonder how long it’ll take him to realize she’s a bitch.”

The memory of Rosa’s face smacking against the gym floor was suddenly a lot more appealing to him.

“I mean, she is a _hot_ bitch, I’ll give her that,” Rosa continued, “but still.”

“I don’t think she’s a bitch,” Kit said, a little quicker than he normally would.

“Fine, maybe that’s harsh of me,” she sighed, not looking like she really meant it, “but you agree that she’s hot?”

Kit just shrugged, bending down to take another drink of water. All he could think about was kissing her on his doorstep that morning, pulling back to see her beautiful eyes staring at him with such intensity…

But Rosa didn't need to know that.

 

-

 

He woke up on Freddie’s couch.

He must’ve fallen asleep during their movie marathon – he remembered getting as far as _The Goblet of Fire_ , but after that, it was hazy. He reached for his glasses on the coffee table, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light streaming in through the windows. He stretched his arms up over his head and felt something cold pressing into his back. He sat up, trying to locate the problem, and couldn’t help but smile when he saw:

Freddie had fallen asleep on the opposite end of the couch, curled up tightly. She was drooling on her pillow, her hair tangled and covering half her face.

As gently as he could, he grasped her ankle and gave her a careful shake. She gave a little grumble and rolled over. He chuckled softly to himself and repeated the action, shaking her with just a bit more purpose this time.

“Stoooop,” She mumbled, tugging her leg free. She rubbed at her eyes, and when she opened them and saw Kit, she scrambled up, stunned. “Oh!”

“Morning,” He greeted, bending to kiss her. She barely reacted when his lips brushed against hers, eyes wide and filled with surprise.

“You slept over,” She said.

“Looks that way,” Kit agreed.

“You’ve never done that before.”

“I didn’t plan to,” He tilted his head, taking in her reaction. “Is this okay?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just…” She trailed off, embarrassed. “I kind of thought our first sleepover would be a little… sexier.”

Kit laughed, relief washing over him, glad that was the only reason she seemed distressed.

“Sexier than Harry Potter trying to restore peace to the Wizarding World?” He joked.

“Don’t laugh,” Freddie whined, “this is embarrassing! I had a whole plan! I was going to wake up first and brush my teeth so I wouldn’t have gross morning breath, and maybe run a brush through my hair or something – I was _definitely_ going to wear cuter pajamas than this!”

“I love that you put so much thought into it,” He said, “but it’s really okay. This was nice! It’s spontaneous. Besides, you don’t need to do all that for me. I always think you look good.”

“Really?” Her cheeks tinged pink and she bit her lip when she smiled.

“Really-really. You’re beautiful, Freddie.” He held her gaze for a moment, letting it linger, before pulling an elastic from his wrist and tying his hair back. “Now come on, I’m gonna make you breakfast.”

He was in the kitchen before she could protest, opening cabinets as he went, searching for ingredients. The first cabinet was filled with different kinds of coffee, half empty bags of different flavors. The second cabinet contained boxes upon boxes of granola bars and pop-tarts (he wondered idly if MESSINA’s nutritionist knew about those). The third cabinet had ramen noodles and a few stray cereal boxes.

Okay, so that was a bust – he went for the fridge.

Nothing but a half gallon of milk and leftovers from the takeout they’d gotten a few days ago. Intrigued now, he checked the freezer – filled with microwaveable meals.

“Freddie,” he called over his shoulder, “do you realize you don’t have _any_ real food in your apartment?”

“Well, the thing about that is,” She appeared in the archway, looking sheepish. “I can’t cook.”

“You _can’t_ cook, or you don’t _like_ to cook?” He asked.

“Oh, _can’t_ ,” She assured him, deadly serious. “Believe me, I’ve tried. Do you _remember_ that birthday cake I made you? Nothing I try comes out anywhere _near_ edible. I did make toast once! …It was awful. My grandma’s the same way. We’re take-out people, always have been.”

He thought of his own family – meals had always been an _event_ in the Harper household, his mother buzzing around the kitchen, assigning different tasks to Kit and his siblings, never anything less than patient as she taught them all. He was struck by the image of tiny Freddie and her grandmother surrounded by take-out boxes, night after night, and wondered if she’d ever even known what she was missing.

“When’s the last time you had a home cooked meal?” He asked, and Freddie frowned, wracking her brain.

“Maybe last Christmas?” She considered. “Or the Christmas before.”

“You can’t even remember?” His mind boggled at the thought. “Okay, get your coat. We need to go to the grocery store.”

“I had no idea you could cook,” she said, reaching for her jacket. “Are you any good?”

“I’m going to _try_ not to be insulted by that.”

She protested the whole time, insisting she wasn’t missing out, saying she was fine with cereal. (“That’s because you’ve never had my french toast,” Kit said.) After he’d bought all the ingredients he needed, they went back to her apartment, and she sat on the countertop as he worked over the stove, making veggie omelets, banana stuffed french toast, and bacon for them both.

“Excellent presentation,” Freddie commended, when he handed her a plate. “The whipped cream is a nice touch.”

He watched as she cut into her french toast, taking her first bite. She gave a thoughtful hum, chewing slowly, and then her eyes widened.

“Oh my God,” She said, through a mouthful of food, “Kit! If I knew you cooked so well, I would’ve had you sleepover a long time ago.”

“I’m glad you like it,” He smiled, and she shook her head adamantly.

“ _Like_ is not the word,” She said. “This is incredible. You could be a chef if you wanted to.”

“Ah, that would take all the fun out of it,” He gave a modest shrug. “It’s better cooking for the people I care about.”

“Lucky for me, then,” She grinned, and took another bite.

He slept over again that night, and this time, it wasn’t an accident.

 

-

 

When Kit arrived at Freddie’s building, she wasn’t there. And she wasn’t picking up her phone, either.

Kit wasn’t fazed – he was pretty used to this, by now. She’d invite him over, something would come up at work while he was on his way over, and in her rush to get to MESSINA and fix whatever problem there was, she’d forget to call him.

If he was a different sort of person, maybe it might have bothered him, but he knew she never _meant_ to leave him stranded. Besides, the man who worked at the security desk of the apartment building was fun to talk to – he and Kit had become friends over the last few months. He was probably the only other person in Auckland who knew that Kit and Freddie were even dating.

“Hey, Henry,” Kit greeted, strolling over to his desk.

“Oh, don’t tell me,” Henry shook his head when he saw him, sighing heavily. “Did she forget you had plans _again?_ ”

“I don’t think she forgot we had plans, I think she just forgot to tell me the plans changed,” He corrected, causing Henry to laugh. “How’s your family?”

“They’re great, thanks Kitso,” He smiled, “I’ll tell them you were asking for them. But seriously, what is this, the third time this month? No disrespect, but I think your lady might be a little scatter-brained.”

“Trust me,” Kit laughed, “she is _anything_ but that. It’s more like she has a… single-minded focus on whatever the task at hand is.”

“I am _so sorry_.” Kitso and Henry turned at the sudden outburst – Freddie was standing in the entryway, doubled-over, panting, and soaked up to her shins. “I’m _so_ sorry, there was a work emergency, one of the bathrooms was flooding and nobody could get in touch with Lawrence from maintenance so I had to –” She paused. Kitso and Henry were both smirking, stifling giggles. “Anyways, um. On top of all that, my car wouldn’t start. So I just ran there and back. Oh, and I left my phone on my kitchen counter, which is why I didn’t text you to say I was going to be late.”

“Wow,” Henry gave Freddie a full once over, from her sopping wet shoes to her messy hair, dozens of little flyaway strands coming loose from their bun, “you’ve had quite a day.”

“I’m so sorry,” She said again, coming up to Kit, “have you been waiting long?”

“Hours,” Henry said, and for a moment, Freddie looked horrified.

“Ignore him, it wasn’t long at all,” Kit assured her. “Not like that time you wound up going out on an assignment without telling me you weren’t gonna make it to bowling.”

“I forgot about that one,” Freddie winced. “That one was rough.”

“It’s fine,” Kit promised, “it really is. Come on, let’s go upstairs – I brought stuff to make burritos.”

“Seriously?” Freddie’s face lit up. “Oh my god, you’re amazing.”

She took hold of his hand, and Kit allowed himself to be led away, waving to Henry as the elevator doors closed behind them. Freddie seemed jumpy in the elevator, like she had a secret. Kit quirked his brow, giving her hand a squeeze.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah,” She nodded, “yeah, I’m fine, I’m just…” She made a vague gesture, waving her free hand in the air, and Kit let out a chuckle.

“Okay, weirdo,” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, “whatever you say.”

The elevator doors opened and they walked down the hall towards Freddie’s apartment. When they got to the door, she came to a halt, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Kit shifted the bag full of groceries from one arm to the other and gave her a strange look.

“Uh, Freds?” He prompted, nodding his head towards the door, “did you want to go inside, or…?”

“I’ve been thinking,” She said, and Kit felt something seize up inside of him, his mind running through all the possible outcomes to that sentence. He thought about her behavior lately, behavior he’d dismissed as stress from work, but now suddenly seemed like it might be something else.

She was late to their plans for the third time that month.

She was nervous and jumpy in the elevator.

She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Recognition settled in the pit of Kit’s stomach. She was trying to break up with him.

 _I’ve been thinking, and this is a mistake. I’ve been thinking, and we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I’ve been thinking, and I can’t risk my job for you. I’ve been thinking, and we should end things between us._

“It’s not fair of me to keep leaving you stranded in the lobby every time I’m running late,” She said, and Kit prepared himself for what was coming next, “You’re always waiting around for me, and I know you say you don’t mind, but I can’t help but feel so awful about it –”

“Don’t,” He managed to say, “you don’t have to feel awful about it.”

“But I _do_ ,” She pressed on, “so I thought a lot about the way things are, and… I have something for you.”

 _Wait._ Kit frowned. He wasn’t expecting that part. Break-ups didn’t usually end in a _gift_ , in his experience. Unless… she wasn’t breaking up with him after all? But then what was she…

“Here.” She reached into her purse and closed her fist around something, holding it out to him. Cautiously, he reached out, and her fingers unfurled, a small silver object falling into his palm.

A key.

“I had a copy made up for you,” She explained hurriedly, “I wanted you to have it, so you’re not always waiting around for me anymore. _Mi casa es su casa_.” She cringed as the words came out of her mouth, her nose wrinkling. “Sorry. That was embarrassing. I don’t know where that came from. I was trying to say –”

The grocery bag dropped to the floor, sending avocados and bell peppers rolling down the hall as he cut her off with a kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist. She was stiff with surprise for only a moment before she melted into him, arms winding around his shoulders, springing up on her toes.

“So you like it?” She asked when he pulled away, her voice hopeful.

“Freddie Kingston,” Kit laughed, pressing his forehead to hers, “you are one of a kind, you know that?”

 

-

 

Kitso felt like he was drowning in paperwork.

This always happened – he’d put it off until the next day, and the next, until suddenly he only had a few hours to tackle two dozen pages. There were things that had always been easy for him – cooking, talking to people, even being a spy seemed to come naturally – but every time he was confronted with paperwork, his brain just shut off.

He sighed, setting down his pen in defeat. The only thing he wanted in the world was to leave his desk behind and get himself a strong cup of coffee. But there he was, at 11:38, still with pages and pages of work left to do.

“You know we have strict rules about curfew, Agent Harper.”

A grin crept across Kit’s face as he felt warm arms wrap around him, felt a kiss planted at the base of his neck that made the cramped halls of MESSINA all but disappear.

“I keep forgetting,” he said, leaning back against Freddie and closing his eyes, his mind already a million miles away from paperwork. “Who is it I’m supposed to talk to about staying late to work?”

“That would be your amazing boss,” she smiled, setting her chin down on his shoulder, “what are you working on?”  

“Ah, you know,” he shrugged. “Paperwork and me have never really seen eye to eye.”

“I know, Kitso,” Freddie sighed, patting him gently on the side of his head. “I have to proofread it all before it goes to headquarters.”

“Right.”

He leaned his head against hers, relishing in her presence. It was hard – not impossible, but still hard, to keep their relationship under wraps at work. He couldn’t just go up to her office for no reason, he had to find excuses to talk to her. Plus she was always so busy, catching her mid work-day wasn’t usually a good idea, even if you were dating her.

“I’m exhausted,” Freddie yawned, “and I’m so hungry I can’t even express it to you in words.”

“You should go eat,” Kit said, running his thumb gently along her knuckles, “I’ll catch up.”

“Oh it’s fine, I can wait,” she kissed his cheek lightly, walking around to perch on his desk. “That should only take you… what, twenty minutes?”

“Are you _kidding_?” Kit stared at her, unsure if she was joking or not. “Fred, this is gonna take me all night.”

It was her turn to stare, looking back and forth between him and the pile of papers.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Um…”

“ _Kit_ ,” she bounced back to her feet, rifling through the papers on his desk, “all night? This should take you an hour at _most_.”

“For you, maybe,” Kit glanced at the intimidating stack on his desk, “but for me, this is an all night affair.”

“We have got to get you a better system,” She sighed, shaking her head. “Here, I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” He said, “I don’t want you to give me any special treatment.”

“Trust me, it’s not special treatment. I redo _everyone’s_ paperwork before I send it to the higher ups,” She assured him, rolling her eyes. “Now step aside and let the master work. …And maybe order us a pizza.”

Kit smiled gratefully and reached for the phone.

“On it, boss.”

Kit knew that normally, Freddie would’ve flown through this amount of paperwork. He’d watched her fill out paperwork before, captivated by the way her hands flew across the page at lightning speed, never making a single mistake. He also knew that patience had never been one of Freddie’s strong suits. He’d seen her lose her temper at the tech department if they took too long with a new gadget (“people’s LIVES at are stake without this, _do you realize that?!_ ”), watched her go toe-to-toe with the higher ups if they weren’t responding to her requests fast enough (“we _need_ you to sign off on expanding the armory, there’s not enough room and it’s becoming a risk!”).

But she spent hours with him, trudging through every painstaking page, offering tips and hints for how to fill out the forms in the most efficient way possible. She even taught him the shorthand she used, and explained how it could save him a few minutes per page. After a few demonstration pages, she had him take over, gently correcting and encouraging him as he went. Not once did she make him feel talked down to or condescended – just made sure he understood and moved on once he did.

Finally, at just past two in the morning, Kit finished the final page. (In all fairness, he might’ve finished sooner, if they didn’t keep stopping for pizza breaks, or Freddie didn’t insist on playing _Eye of the Tiger_ to cheer him on through the last three pages.)

“Congrats, Kitso,” She said, “you’re practically a paperwork machine now.”

“Good thing, too,” He said, “because when I come back in a few hours, my boss is going to give me even more of it.”

“Maybe you should find a new boss,” Freddie’s smile filled her whole face. “This one sounds like a total hardass.”

“Nah,” He smiled right back, his gaze never faltering. “I like her just how she is.”

 

-

 

Mandatory team building was one of Kit’s favorite parts of the week. It was one of the rare times he saw Freddie unwind at work, letting loose and having a little bit of fun with the rest of them. She smiled more in that one hour than she did the rest of the week combined at MESSINA, it made Kit’s heart swell. Her smile was so beautiful, the way her eyes shone and her nose crinkled, and it felt like such a private thing most of the time – he counted himself lucky, getting to see Freddie’s smile outside of the MESSINA compound. The first time she ever smiled at him was that night he caught her dancing, when they went out for drinks afterwards. _Freddie Kingston is smiling at me,_ he had thought to himself. _Her smile is beautiful and it’s aimed at me._

So when she allowed herself to be happy at work, when she allowed the others to see her smiling and laughing, he was so glad for her – and so glad for _them_. He hoped they counted themselves lucky, too.

“Kit! Question for you.” Rosa tugged her hair loose from its ponytail, shaking her curls free. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Freddie’s ears perked up immediately, glancing over at Kit, whose face betrayed nothing.

“Because if not, I have a friend who’s asking me to set her up with someone, which is actually kind of lazy if you ask me – it’s like, go out and find your own dates, you know?” Rosa rolled her eyes. “But anyways, she won’t stop asking me, and I spend all my time at work, so my options are kind of limited.”

“Actually, yeah,” Kit said, “I am seeing someone.”

“Oh,” Peter raised his brow. “Are you and Balth back on, then?”

“No, Balthy and I are just friends,” Kit said, and he saw Freddie bite her lip to keep from laughing, watching him as he scrambled. “There’s this girl I’ve been seeing for a few months now, actually.”

“Well, sucks for Seraphine,” Rosa shrugged, “but good for you. You should bring her to Freddie’s banquet thing next month.”

“I’m not really sure about that,” Kit said, carefully avoiding Rosa’s gaze.

“That’s too bad,” Freddie piped up, unable to resist, “it’d be nice to meet her. A real treat.”

Kit couldn’t help but smile at that. He heard what people said about Freddie when she wasn’t around; that she was cold hearted, didn’t know how to have fun, only knew how to work, and he wished they could see this side of her. The goofball whose apartment he’d stayed at every night that week, staring him straight in the eyes and feigning ignorance.

“I guess I can ask if she’s around,” Kit shrugged, “she’s pretty busy though, probably has some corporate event that night or something.”

“Bummer,” Freddie said, sipping her coffee; the coffee Kit had given her right before team building, pressing the thermos into her hands and a kiss to her lips, “she sounds like a charmer.”

“Freddie, he’s literally told us nothing about her, she could be a total bore,” Rosa rolled her eyes, “no offense, Kit.”

“None taken,” he smiled, “trust me, she’s anything but a bore.”

“Alright, gang,” Freddie clapped her hands together, her cheeks pink and eyes bright, “that’s enough socializing. Hit the showers and get back to your desks, we’ve got an organization to run.”

 

-

 

Kit’s old family home was just a half-hour outside of MESSINA, and on Christmas Eve it was lit up like nothing else. A warm, happy glow emanated from every window. Faint music could be heard, coupled with the sound of raucous laughter and high, loud voices.

Kit sat in the car, glancing over at Freddie as she jiggled her knee up and down.

“Ready?” he asked gently.

“Not yet,” she replied, pointedly looking anywhere but at the house, “I just need another second.”

She had her hair pulled back, wearing leggings and a purple dress that went down to her knees, one of which was still shaking feverishly. Any other day Kit would have been happy just to sit there and look at her, but today was different.

“They’re only people,” he said, his mind racing for ways to calm her down. “I promise my family doesn’t bite. Well… one of my sisters _used_ to, but that was easily ten years ago, so I think you’re safe there.”

“It’s not that, Kit,” she said, running a hand through her bangs. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” he asked, softly.

“I haven’t ever done anything like this before,” she stared at her hands; Kit noticed her nails were bitten down again. “I never know what to do at parties. Family Christmas wasn’t really my _thing_ growing up, you know? It was mostly just… me and my grandmother.”

Kit knew. He remembered the night when, tucked in his arms, Freddie had told him the story of her parents. How her mother had been a top spy, headed for an elite government job with a bright future. How she’d given it all up to elope with Freddie’s father and create a new life for herself, far away from the dangerous spy world. How they’d both died, a car accident on a busy freeway, when Freddie was just a baby. How her grandmother always suspected Freddie’s mom’s old enemies were behind it, back to take their revenge.

Mostly, he just remembered Freddie’s voice in his ear.

 _“I always wanted to be a spy, but sometimes I wonder if that’s because it’s the only option my grandmother ever gave me.”_ Then a pause, five, maybe six seconds. _“…I’ve never told anyone that before.”_

That warmth in his chest, the monumental knowledge that she trusted him enough to say whatever was on her mind, it was precious to him. He couldn’t betray that trust.

“What if I mess something up?” she continued, frantically tapping the dashboard with her fingers. “What if I say the wrong thing or do something rude and I don’t even realize it? I should have looked at their Facebook pages last night Kitso, what was I _thinking_?”

“Freddie,” Kit said, reaching over to take her hand, “none of that is going to happen. _Trust_ me, my family is going to do most of the talking. You’ll barely have to move, they’ll all shepard you around like they’ve got a hive mind.”

“ _That_ is supposed to calm me down?” Freddie said, disbelieving, “that’s horrifying!”

“It’s a little horrifying,” Kit laughed, but backed down at the sight of her panicked expression. “No, really Freddie, you have nothing to be worried about.”

She still looked unsure.

“We don’t have to go,” he offered, honestly. “I can drive you home, we’ll order take out; I’ll catch the last hour of the party, it’s okay.”

“No,” Freddie said, taking a deep breath, “no, I can do this. I _know_ I can do this.”

“You’re sure?” He pressed, “I don’t want to make you—”

“I’m sure,” she nodded, lifting her hand to the door handle—but she hesitated again before she could open it.

“Hey,” Kit was struck with an idea, reaching into his coat, “close your eyes.” Freddie whipped her head around, eyebrows knit together.

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, fingers brushing over the object in his pocket.

“For _now_.”

“Then close your eyes.”

She did, scrunching her eyelids shut tight. Kit pulled out the present he’d bought earlier that day—it was lucky he hadn’t taken it out of his coat yet—and placed it gently in her hand.

She opened her eyes before he had the chance to say anything, staring downward in anticipation.

“ _Whoa_.”

It was a pencil case, decorated on both sides with coffee beans. She turned it over in her hands, feeling the soft material beneath her fingers.

“I know you said you keep losing pens,” Kit explained quickly, “and there’s only so many pencils you can stick in your ponytail, so I thought… anyway I saw it and thought of you. Sorry I didn’t have time to wrap it, I was planning to give it to you tomorrow.”

“It’s…” he braced himself for the worst. “Kit I _love_ it. Thank you, I’ve been meaning to get a new one of these and I just kept forgetting.”

“I know,” he said, relieved, watching her face break into a wide smile. She turned, leaning forward and kissing him eagerly, her fingers warm against his neck.

“Thank you,” she said again, her eyes shining, “you’re amazing.” He chuckled, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

“You are.”

“Okay,” Freddie breathed, a small, playful smile on her lips. “Let’s go. Lead me into the hive mind.”

“Alright,” Kit grinned back, “I—”

He caught the sentence in his throat. The words hung there in the air, so close to being spoken, but he reigned them back in.

“I believe in you,” he said, completing the thought, kissing the back of her hand quickly before opening his car door and stepping out onto the sidewalk.

It wasn’t the right moment, that’s what he told himself as Freddie walked around the car, slipping her hand into his. There was no point in telling her something so important when she was already nervous. He had been around her long enough to know that dropping something like that on Freddie, _now_ , would send her into a tail spin. When the time was right, when he knew she was ready to hear it, he would tell her.

The door to his house burst open before they were even on the porch.

“ _Kitso_!” about fifteen people cried in unison, spilling out on the lawn to greet them. In an instant, they were surrounded, led eagerly back into the house by dozens of Kit’s family members. It smelled amazing, like fresh baked bread and cheese and all sorts of other things he couldn’t put a name to. His mother and father pushed through the crowd, both enveloping him in a tight hug.

“How are you dear?”

“Did you have a good drive?”

“Your apartment, how is it going? Roommates treating you well?”

“This must be Freddie!” Kit’s father said, turning the attention over to her. She stood awkwardly for a second, unsure what to say.

“Oh, um…yes?” She managed. There was the slightest of pauses, and then—

“Oh goodness dear, how lovely to meet you!”

“We’ve heard so much.”

“How is work? Tell us all about it.”

“So nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“Oh!” she shot Kit a surprised look, “Oh, work is good! Busy all the time, but you know…”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Kit’s father nodded. “Here, just the other day I read this article, let me show you—”

Before Freddie could say anything, she was led away into the crowd of relatives. Kit sent her an _I’m sorry!_ kind of shrug, but she didn’t seem to mind much.

His family led her around the living room, all of them passing her food, asking her questions about her life, and generally prying into the finer details of her and Kit’s relationship. But with every kind gesture, every welcoming smile, Kit could see her spirits getting brighter.

“Kitso, where did you _find_ this girl?” his mother asked, a tray of cookies piled high in her hands. “I love her!”

“Yeah,” Kit said, gazing longingly at Freddie as she laughed, her hair flying every which way, “me too.”

 

-

 

“Freds, slow down.”

She’d stormed right past him on her way out of Peter’s office, pushing through the crowds and making her way towards the back stairwell. Kit had followed as close as he could, trying his best not to draw attention to himself, until they reached the empty employee parking lot.

“Hey, come on, talk to me,” he called, “Freddie…”

She marched right over to his car, opening the passenger door and slamming it behind her. Relieved, he walked around to the driver’s side. At least she wasn’t angry enough to ignore him.

“What the HELL?!” Freddie burst out the second his door was closed. Her face was flushed, her expression livid; Kit had never seen her so upset. “It had to be tonight, it just fucking _had_ to be.”

“Hey,” he tried to reach for her hand, but Freddie wasn’t paying attention, lifting both hands up and running them through her hair.

“The one night, the _one night_ I get to relax, the night I think _what’s the worst that could happen_? THAT’s when ‘Team Blessed’ pops up out of nowhere after a _year_ off the grid?”

Kit couldn’t blame her for being angry. He’d never met Beatrice and Benedick in his life, but they were MESSINA legends (or MESSINA cautionary tales, depending on how you looked at it). There were newer employees who didn’t even believe they _existed_. It was unthinkable that tonight of all nights, they would actually come back.

“And on top of that, on top of _everything_ they’ve done, they think they can just waltz right in and get their jobs _back_ ?” Freddie spat, her fists grasping at the air. “Like, no big deal! We’ll just break into our old facility and surprise everyone! They all love us so god damned much, it’s not like anything _happened_ while we were gone. It’s not like anyone had to work late nights and last for days on five hours of sleep because we ran off to Europe with no warning. No, we’re Team Blessed, and we don’t have to follow anyone’s rules because we’re so god damned _special_.”

Freddie took a deep breath in, her shoulders sagging as she sighed it back out again.

“I just…” she breathed, “I just wanted to have a party.”

All the anger seemed to drain out of her, and she let herself fall into Kit’s arms. He held her tight against his chest, kissing her forehead gently as her shoulders shook with tears and frustration.

“It isn’t fair,” he agreed, “you’ve worked so hard Freds, and everyone knows that.” She shook her head, her face buried in his sweater.

“They all think I’m awful,” she hiccupped.

“They don’t,”

“Kit, I’m not stupid.”

“ _I’m_ proud of you,” he insisted, resting his cheek on the top of her head, “I’ve seen all the work you do, you’re amazing.”

“Thank you,” she sniffed, snuggling deeper into his shoulder, “I just wish…”

A short, sharp series of buzzes emanated from her pocket. She frowned, shifting position to slip her phone out of her dress and stare at the screen, her expression hardening.

“It’s Peter,” she said, “he wants to talk about it. About them.”

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Kit asked, “I don’t mind.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Freddie sighed, pushing herself back up and wiping her eyes. “How do I look? Normal?”

“Beautiful,” Kit said, brushing a stray tear off her cheek. “I’ll see you back at your place then. Did you get dinner?”

“With all the people to talk to, I didn’t really -”

“I’ll make something,” he said, “pad thai.”

Freddie’s eyes widened, and her expression fell into something so soft she hardly seemed like the same person who’d been shouting five minutes ago.

“ _You’re_ the one who’s amazing,” she said, kissing him quickly, her fingers pressed against his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

Freddie pushed herself out of his car, furiously texting all the way back across the parking lot. Kit sat and watched her until she was out of sight, drumming his fingers against his knee.

Freddie’s MESSINA was a well oiled machine. It worked best on a steady rhythm, had been functioning that way for months now. But this… this was an unexpected hiccup in the system.

 _It’ll be fine_ , he told himself as he pulled out of the parking lot, headed towards the grocery store, _nothing is going to change._

Freddie could handle it. Kit had seen all the things she’d done for company; she always found a way to turn things around, no matter what the challenge. If there was one thing he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was that Freddie Kingston could handle _anything_.


	14. Chapter 14

Meg jolted awake, sitting straight up and looking around the room in a panic. For a brief moment, she didn’t know where she was, but as her eyes adjusted to the dark room, it all came rushing back. The mission, the Alps, the avalanche… their friends, still in that cabin.

Assuming the cabin was still standing.

Someone had draped a blanket over her. Beatrice and Kit were on the couch across from her, slumped across opposite sides, snuggled with blankets and pillows as well.

She hadn’t even remembered falling asleep – but then, they’d been through a pretty traumatic event, and stayed up for an entire night following it, consumed with worry. They were bound to crash eventually.

Her stomach rumbled, and she was suddenly aware of how _hungry_ she was. She didn’t know where Boyet had gotten off to – the chateau was enormous – but he’d shown them the kitchen earlier, and she knew it had plenty of snacks to offer.

She was perusing the cabinets when she felt a rush of cold air, the front door opening as Boyet kicked snow off of his shoes, unwinding a scarf from around his neck.

“Oh,” He smiled, pleasantly surprised, “you’re up!”

“I’m up,” She agreed, nodding. “Thanks for the blankets.”

“Of course,” He said. “I have to say, you all fell asleep impressively fast! You barely finished your drinks and suddenly the three of you were snoring away.”

“Fat chance,” Meg smirked, “I don’t snore.”

“Okay, sure,” Boyet laughed good naturedly, “you don’t snore.”

He took off his jacket and hung it by the door, slipping out of his shoes and padding into the kitchen to join her, taking a seat by the counter.

“So do you live here year round?” Meg asked, glancing at his fully stocked pantry. She had to laugh at the packets of cocoa – easily ten boxes of the stuff, tucked on the top shelf. She knew there were coffee fiends and tea lovers, but she’d never encountered someone who was quite as big a fan of hot chocolate as Boyet was. “This doesn’t exactly seem like a bustling metropolis of activity.”

“I’m here for work,” He explained, “I’m a visiting professor of geology at a University. I’m on sabbatical this term, and wanted to get some field work in. Natural disasters are kind of my thing, thus the trip to the Alps in the worst possible season for it.”

“Well,” Meg smiled, “I guess it’s lucky for us that you’ve got a thing for putting your life on the line. Who knows what would’ve happened to us if it weren’t for you?”

“Let’s not dwell on that,” He said, “the point is, the three of you are safe now, and I’m sure your friends are, too.”

There was a crash from the other room, followed by someone cursing and a lot of rustling, then Beatrice appeared in the kitchen, looking just as worried as she’d been before.

“Hey, Beatrice,” Boyet gave her a comforting smile, “how was your nap?”

“The police didn’t come yet, did they?” She asked.

“Actually,” Boyet looked sheepish, “That’s where I just came back from. They were having some trouble getting here – as you probably realized, we’re a little off the beaten path out where we are – so I went to them.”

“ _What?_ ” Bea’s entire demeanor shifted; all her nervous energy gave way to a mixture of horror and sheer anger. Meg couldn’t blame her – she felt something harden inside of her, all the comfort of the easy banter from a moment ago completely gone. “Why wouldn’t you take us with you?! That’s the whole reason we’ve been _waiting_ here when we could’ve been out searching _ourselves_ –”

“I – I’m sorry,” Boyet stammered, face going pale, “They called me right after you all fell asleep, and I know how exhausted you’ve been – I didn’t think you’d have anything to tell them that I wouldn’t already know, so I thought it was best to let you rest. They know what happened, and the general whereabouts of the cabin – I mean, as close as we can guess, since you were a little disoriented… but they’ve got a search party ready, and –”

“What’s going on?” Kit wandered into the room, still wiping sleep from his eyes.

“Boyet decided to go to the police without us,” Beatrice snapped, “ _Apparently_ he didn’t think it was worth it to wake us up for that.”

“I’m _really_ very sorry,” Boyet said, “I honestly didn’t think it was going to be so upsetting for you. But I can see that I clearly made the wrong call, and I’m sorry for adding more stress to your situation –”

“Just stop,” Meg held up a hand, sighing. “It’s not like you can undo it now. It was a mistake. Let’s just… move forward.”

“Right,” Kit went for the door, grabbing his jacket off one of the hooks. “So let’s meet up with the search party, yeah?” Boyet winced as Beatrice and Meg also started going for their coats and boots.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” He hedged, and all three of them gave him equally icy stares. “It’s just that you aren’t prepared for those weather conditions! And it could be an exhausting search, you don’t know anything about the aftermath of avalanches  – I mean, you’re just a bunch of kids on a school trip. Your parents are probably all worried sick. It would be irresponsible of me to just let you go back out there.”

“You don’t have to worry about us,” Bea said flatly, “I’m sure we’ll manage.”

“Aren’t you some kind of expert in the area of natural disasters?” Meg pointed out. “If you come with us…”

“Okay, okay, how about this,” He suggested, “you all just woke up, none of you have eaten in at _least_ a day, you won’t last very long on that mountain. Why don’t we all have some lunch, come up with a plan, and leave in a couple of hours?”

“What? No! We’re leaving _now!_ ” Beatrice cried.

“Actually, Bea, he might have a point…” Kit admitted. “If we leave now, we’re just going to have to turn around in an hour.”

“Meg?” Beatrice turned to her expectantly, hands on her hips.

“Sorry, Bea,” Meg bit her lip, guilt all over her face.  “You know I want to get out there and start looking as soon as possible, but if we’re exhausted and hungry, we’re not getting up that mountain.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” One tear spilled down Bea’s cheek, then another, then another. She wiped at them furiously, embarrassed.

“Waiting an hour isn’t going to change anything,” Boyet assured her, his voice soft. But Beatrice either didn’t hear him or didn’t care – she shoved past them all and ran down the hall to one of the bedrooms, door slamming behind her. Boyet glanced to the others, concerned. “Should one of us go after her?”

Meg shook her head.

“Let her be for now,” She advised. “We’d only make it worse.”

 

-

 

Rosa and Ben were still trading stories when Freddie came in to change out his bandages. She raised a brow, surprised to see the two of them getting along so well, but wisely chose not to comment on it – she didn’t want to risk ruining whatever peace had settled between the pair. She set to work changing his bandage in silence, content to listen.

“Anyway, that’s how we got separated when we were in Mexico City,” Ben was saying. He sighed, shaking his head. “It was nothing like this, though.”

“Yeah, I’d say you being shit with directions is a little different than a natural disaster,” Rosa smirked.

“I just wish I knew she was _okay,_ ” Ben said, fiddling with his broken communicator, “if I could just hear her voice, maybe…”

Freddie’s heart lurched. She couldn’t stand to listen to Ben talk like that – couldn’t bear the thought of what might be happening, on the other side of the cabin door.

“How’s your head?” She asked, swiftly changing the subject, brushing her fingers across the cut. Ben winced a little at the touch. “Oof, it’s swelling a little.”

“Oh, that’s nothing new,” Rosa teased, a gleam in her eye. “Benedick’s always had a big head.”

Freddie braced herself for a fight, but to her surprise, Ben laughed.

“That’s what I have you for, Rosa,” he joked, and she chuckled in response, “I can always count on you to take me down a peg or two.”

“Back at you, Benedick.”

“I don’t know what’s going on here,” Freddie looked between the two of them, a bewildered smile on her face, “but I’m glad for whatever it is.”

“Sure is a lot of laughter in here, considering our situation.” The three of them turned, eyes landing on Peter, looming in the doorway. His arms were crossed, a look of disgust on his face. “Or did you forget?”

“It’s not like that –” Ben started, but Peter cut him off.

“Your apparent _wife –_ thanks for the invitation, by the way, congrats on your _happy union_ – is out there, and you have the audacity to be in here, _laughing?_ ” He accused. “And you, Rosa – aren’t you at _all_ worried about Balthazar? He’s got no idea what happened to you, all he knows is that none of us can get in contact with him, all he knows is that our plane crashed and we’re stranded out here. As far as he knows, you’re _dead_ –”

“Are you talking about me or you in this scenario?” Rosa snapped, “Kind of feels like you’re projecting here, Pete.”

“And then your little boyfriend,” He whirled on Freddie, “that you’ve kept a secret from us for _how_ long now? Real hypocritical of you, by the way –”

“You really want to have this conversation _now_?” Freddie’s eyes widened, anger coursing through her veins.

“Dating an employee, Freddie?” Peter went on, seemingly unstoppable. “What were you thinking? You’re his _boss_ , the higher-ups have a _really_ strict policy about this! You could’ve been _fired_. You still could be, if they find out about this!”

“So let them fire me!” Freddie roared. “I don’t care about keeping my job, I care about being with Kitso!”

As she said it, she knew the words were true. Her job had always been everything to her – it was everything she’d worked for, it was all she wanted for as long as she could remember. The life her mother never had. The life her mother gave up for love, and then paid the ultimate price for. All her life, Freddie had never understood why or how her mother had left it all behind without a single thought.

Until now.

Until now, when it might be too late.

“I –” Peter balked. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

“Me neither,” Freddie murmured.

“You’re still going to have to talk to HR about this, when we all get back,” Peter said, though his tone was softer this time, gentler.

“ _If_ we all get back,” She corrected, tears welling up. “I... I need a minute.”

“I – uh – I’m sorry,” He mumbled, as Freddie pushed past him, headed for the empty bedroom on the other side of the cabin. “I didn’t mean to…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, just wandered back out into the main room.

Ben glanced at Rosa, who simply shrugged.

“Fine,” He sighed, dropping his head into his hands, exhausted. “I’ll go talk to him.”

 

-

 

Beatrice collapsed onto bed, grabbing a quilted pillow and screaming into it as loudly as she could. Every bit of anger, every pent up emotion, every single bit of terror and rage and sadness she propelled outward against the fabric. She had never felt so miserable, not even when Benedick had left MESSINA to join John. At least then she had known he was still alive.

Beatrice had never been away from him for this long, not since they’d left MESSINA together. She couldn't have fathomed the pain in her gut, like something integral had been taken from her. She had to imagine this was what it felt like to have a dementor suck out your soul.

And what was Boyet's problem anyway? Who gave him the right to go wherever he wanted without talking to them? He was so stuck up, he thought he could take on the mountain better than they could? If only he knew what they could _really_ do, the things they'd done already, he wouldn't blow them off like that.

Beatrice rolled over onto her back, wiping her eyes furiously. She stared down at her wrists, wishing for the millionth time that she had her bracelet back. It was the worst kind of omen, if she wanted to believe in that sort of thing. All that was left was her useless communicator. She clicked it off her wrist, tossing it at the wall as hard as she could. It met the wood with a smack, bouncing off and landing neatly on the carpet. Beatrice turned away, she couldn't bear to look at it anymore.

Wishing wasn't going to get Benedick back. Maybe nothing would.

There was a crackling noise from behind her. The snap of static, a sudden high pitched tone and then…

_"-just wish I knew she was okay-"_

Beatrice whipped around, nearly falling off the bed in her rush to reach the communicator. It was him, her husband, _Benedick._ His voice, loud and clear and alive, had sparked from the broken communicator. She snatched it up, holding it to her ear and trying to stop her hands from shaking.

“Ben, I'm _here_ ,” she cried, pressing the talk button. “Ben, please, I'm okay.”

There was nothing from the other end, not even static.

“BENEDICK,” she yelled into the communicator, “BEN, LOVE, COME ON.”

Nothing. She threw the communicator at the wall again, desperate for anything at all to let her hear his voice. It hit the wall with such a force that the bottom half snapped off, wires and tiny pieces flying everywhere. Beatrice stared at them, disbelieving. For a second, she thought she was going to cry again.

And then she felt the anger rising. What kind of a cheap, shitty piece of low life spy technology would _break_ if it was thrown against a _wall_?

Beatrice left it on the floor, storming back downstairs and grabbing her coat off the hook. He was alive, the love of her life was alive and looking for her, and that was all that mattered. He was a warm mug of tea placed on her desk right when he knew she needed it, he was a spontaneous trip around the world, he was a hand tucked into hers letting her know that everything was going to be okay, he was _alive._

She stepped into her boots, pulling her hat down over her ears and making a move for the door handle. _I'm coming, Benedick,_ she thought, _I'm coming._

The door was locked. She blinked, trying the handle again, but it refused to move. She wondered if it might be frozen shut, but it didn’t seem that way. Beatrice searched for a lock mechanism, but the door had a handle and nothing else. She wracked her brain; she knew she’s seen something like this before, but where…

MESSINA’s hub. The doors there looked just like this one, and they could only be locked _remotely_.

“What?” She mumbled to herself. “ _Why?_ ”

Screw the door - it didn’t matter. She didn’t have time to wonder why Boyet’s house had the same level of protection as an elite spy organization, not while Ben was still out there.

Beatrice walked around to the back, looking for another exit. She found two more doors, all locked. She marched through the kitchen past Meg and Kit with a chair, throwing it with all her might at the window, but it bounced right off without so much as a crack.

“Jesus, Beatrice!” Meg jumped up, running to stop Bea from chucking anything else. “What are you doing?!”

“Ben is _alive_ , Meg!” She screamed, jerking her arms away. “He’s alive and I have to find him.” Her breath was coming in short gasps, and she could tell her friends were alarmed.

“Beatrice, hey,” Kit said gently, “maybe you should sit down.”

“NO,” Beatrice insisted, not caring how ridiculous she sounded. “I have to get out of this house.” Kit and Meg glanced at each other and then back at Beatrice, incredulous. She took a deep breath, knowing she had to explain herself better. “Guys, I _heard_ him. I heard his voice from my communicator.”

They both stared at her.

“Beatrice…” Meg said carefully, “your communicator is dead.”

“It turned itself back on!” Beatrice said, “I heard Ben’s voice, he was worried about me.”

“And it’s still on?” Kit asked, his eyes widening.

“Well… no, it broke,” she admitted.

“How?”

“Because I threw it against a wall! It’s not important,” Beatrice rolled her eyes, making a grab for the chair again, which Meg pulled out of reach. “The _important_ thing is that we are locked into this house! Where is Boyet?” She cast her eyes around suspiciously.

“He had to go out, we were making lunch,” Kit said.

“He left _again_?” Beatrice could barely believe what they were saying. “You let him leave? How could you!”

“Beatrice, sweetie, you’re overreacting,” Meg said gently, putting her hands on Bea’s shoulders.

“I’M overreacting? We are all prisoners in this house! That doesn’t bother you?”

“It’s an avalanche zone, Bea,” Kit shrugged. “It makes sense for the doors to lock.”

“No! It doesn’t!” Beatrice threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “What is wrong with both of you! My husband, _your_ girlfriend, _your_ friends, they are all out there and they are looking for us! If you won’t help me, I’ll just find them myself.”

She stomped away, leaving the two of them behind her. Something was happening in this house, and she was not going to let it stop her from finding Benedick. She was _always_ going to find her way back to him, no matter how many locked doors or unhelpful people life stuck in her way.

 

-

 

Jaquie had to admit, the plane wasn’t nearly as awful as she’d been led to believe. The Worthies had arrived at Kel’s house (out in the depths of god knows where) and were greeted like old friends. Kel himself seemed like a pretty standard guy; quiet, friendly and surprisingly willing to fly them all to the Swiss Alps.

“Are you sure?” Paige had pressed, biting her lip. “It’s a long trip, we don’t want to take time away from you.”

“Oh no, don’t even worry about it,” Kel smiled, excited, “I’ve flown across the alps before, it’s really beautiful. There’s a great coffee shop just down the mountain, I’d love to take you all.”

“Kel, if you can get us up that mountain, I’ll buy you anything in the world,” Jaquie said, rubbing her temples.

“Really?” he looked astonished.

“Well, no,” Jaquie amended, “but I’ll owe you a favor.”

“Done!” Kel smiled, “so, what are we waiting for?”

It was truly a _tiny_ plane, with six seats shoved against the walls (“theatre in the round,” Costa nodded wistfully) and spare crates tossed everywhere there was room. At least they weren’t full of rotten fruit.

The first few hours were silent enough, nobody seemed much in the mood to socialize. Jaquie stared out the window at the landscape below, Costa paced as well as he could around the cramped space, even Chelsey and Paige were just cuddled in the corner, not talking. The unspoken fear of what they would find when they reached their destination hung heavy over the whole team.

“What if…” Chelsey finally burst out, hours into the flight, “what if we’re too late? Or what if we show up and we can’t do anything to help? Or what if we just make things _worse_?”

“Oh, Chels,” Paige said softly, brushing the hair out of her eyes, “it’ll be okay.”

“We couldn’t just sit at base doing nothing,” Jaquie said from across the plane. “When something happens to one of the Worthies, we have to make sure they get home safely.”

They all looked puzzled for a moment, but it was Chelsey who worked it out first.

“The honorary fifth worthy,” she whispered, “Benedick.”

“Exactly,” Jaquie sat back, crossing her arms. “Plus, without spies to spy on, we have no jobs.”

Jaquie’s determination was exactly the boost their spirits needed, and in no time the atmosphere in the plane was as energetic and noisy as it normally was back at base. They took turns napping, discussing tactics and theories, and Costa went up front to trade stories with Kel about the good old days.

On Sunday afternoon, almost a day after they’d left New Zealand, the whole team was sitting on the floor. They’d moved some crates out of the way, Costa had produced a deck of cards, and they’d begun playing increasingly energetic games of poker, made all the more interesting by the fact that no one but Jaquie knew the rules.

“I fold,” Paige said, throwing all her cards face up in front of her.

“Two, ten, thirteen—ha!” Chelsey said triumphantly. “Your cards add up to less than twenty-five, I get to take one.”

“Objection,” Costa scoffed, “you went _all in_ last turn, you’re out of cards and out of the game!”

“Not anymore I’m not,” Chelsey said, waving her card in his face, “who’s the poker champ now?”

“Only a couple more hours, guys!” Kel shouted from the cockpit. “We’re getting close.”

“Thank god,” Jaquie leaned back against a crate, her hands full of cards, “the way you three play is even more confusing than the _real_ game.”

“Now, Jaquie,” Costa began, when a steady _beep beep beep_ began filling the cabin.

“Our new communicators!” Chelsey said, bringing hers right up to her face to see.

“That’s MESSINA,” Costa announced, looking positively jovial, “maybe they’ve had some good news?”

“Don’t press your luck,” Paige said, eyeing her communicator nervously.

“Hello, MESSINA?” Costa said, pressing the talk button, “The Nine Worthies here.”

“Costa!” It was Balthazar. “Where are you?”

“Just a few hours away from their last known location,” he replied, checking his watch, “we’ll go there first and see what we can find.”

“Yeah, so you might want to be careful about that,” Balthazar said, sounding strained, “can everyone hear me?”

“We’re here Balthazar,” Paige said, “what happened?”

“We cracked it,” he said, breathless, “the email that tipped Meg off about Cornwall—we know who sent it.”

“Who?” Jaquie jumped to her feet, cards flying everywhere, “someone we know?”

The silence that followed lasted for what felt like an eternity.

“You might say that,” Balthazar responded, quietly. “Guys… we messed up.”

 

-

 

Benedick wandered out into the main area of the cabin, where Peter was sitting on the couch with his feet up, staring at a snow covered window so intently that Ben thought he might be trying to melt it by sheer force of will.

“Hey,” He greeted. “Room for me on that couch?”

Wordlessly, Peter swung his legs off and scooched over to make room. Ben plopped down ungracefully beside him.

“How’re you holding up?” He asked. Peter shrugged. “Listen, I know I messed up when I tried to say all this before, but… I’m sorry. For everything. I really am. I didn’t think about how much joining John’s organization would hurt you – not just that I left, but that I left for _him_ . I wasn’t thinking about our friendship. I was being selfish. And I’m not sorry for that year I spent with Beatrice, because to be honest, it was the best year of my whole life – but I _am_ sorry that I ran away without talking to you first, and clearing the air. And I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting since we got back, and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to –”

“Do you realize,” Peter interrupted, finally tearing his gaze from the window to lock eyes with Ben, “that _twice_ now that I’ve had to reconcile myself with your potential death? I mean, do you know how that feels? You’re one of my best friends, or at least you _used_ to be, and _twice_ now I’ve had to deal with the thought that I could be losing you, permanently.”

There was a pause, Peter holding Ben’s gaze, his stare full of unspoken accusations.  

“To be _fair,_ ” Ben said, “the first time, you were the one who sent an assassin after me.”

Peter snorted. Ben giggled. And then suddenly, they were both laughing uproariously, doubled over and holding onto each other for support.

“I really missed you, Peter,” Ben said, both of them still trying to collect themselves, their laughter starting to die down.

“Hey,” Peter smiled, “you finally got my name right.”

There was a sudden rattling coming from the chimney, followed by the small clatter of something hitting the ground, and then: _“hello? Hello? Is this thing on?”_

Ben and Peter exchanged glances, then practically leapt over the back of the couch, knocking it over in the process. They sprawled across the floor, Ben landing on top of Peter, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his arm. Peter rolled out from under him, and Ben snatched up the small gadget that had landed there: a _communicator_.

“Costa?!” He cried, frantically pushing the call button, “Is that you? What are you doing here?”

“We came to rescue you!” Costa’s booming voice came through, triumphant as always. “Paige and Jaquie are digging you out as we speak!”

“What’s going on out here?” Freddie asked, she and Rosa both peeking out from behind separate bedroom doors, “Who are you talking to?”

“It’s the Worthies!” Ben said, “They found us!”

“What?!”

“Costa, give me that!” Chelsey’s voice was muffled at first, followed by a loud protest from Costa and a brief burst of static. Then her voice came through again, clearer this time:

“We have news,” she said, and Ben noticed immediately that this wasn’t the bubbly Chelsey he was used to. Her voice was graver than he’d ever heard it. “And not the good kind.”

 

-

 

When Boyet clicked open the door to his chateau, it was only his quick reflexes that saved him a chair to the face.

The chair collided with the door, and he heard it slam back into place, locked once more. He looked up, stunned. Beatrice was standing several meters away, fists clenched, her stance aggressive.

“Beatrice!” Meg shrieked, standing a ways behind her and looking horrified, “what the hell are you _doing?!_ ”

“Why did you lock us in?” Beatrice demanded, ignoring Meg completely. “Why are you holding us hostage?”

“Beatrice,” Kit said, patient but firm, “he’s not holding us hostage. It’s just a precaution, we’re in an avalanche zone. I’m sure we’re free to go whenever we want.”

“Actually,” Boyet admitted, “I’m afraid that’s not _quite_ true.”

In one fluid moment, Beatrice whirled on Meg, yanking her sleeve up and grabbing a knife that had been strapped to her arm, no more than six inches long. In five quick steps she was at Boyet’s throat, the blade pressed against it.

Instead of looking panicked, however, Boyet was grinning. His smile was positively wicked, and he watched as a chill went down Beatrice’s spine.  

“Why my dear Lady Disdain,” He raised a brow, “are you yet living?”

“ _Who are you?_ ” Beatrice demanded, pressing the knife closer still. A thin line of blood pooled at the blade. “What do you want from us?”

Boyet’s smile only grew.

“Don’t you know?”

Bea’s eyes widened, realization dawning on her.

“ _Cornwall_ ,” she whispered. Her grip on the knife loosened, and that was all he needed: he grabbed her by the wrist and twisted it violently, pinning it behind her back as she let out a cry of pain.

“The one and only,” He said, and he shoved her to the floor.


	15. Chapter 15

Freddie looked like she might faint. As the Worthies explained the situation, all the color had drained from her face until she was white as a sheet.

“Cornwall?” Benedick breathed, disbelieving, “it _can’t_ be.”

“Clearly it can,” Rosa said darkly.

“We basically handed them over to him,” Freddie’s voice was quivering, filled with fear.

“Don’t say that,” Peter said through gritted teeth, “there was no way any of us could’ve known -”

“But it’s _true_ ,” She insisted, “They never would’ve left the cabin if it weren’t for -”

“Freddie!” Ben’s tone was so firm and commanding, it made them all jump. “Nothing we say or do now is going to change what happened. We’ve got to focus.” He reached for the communicator, pressing the call button. “Costa, how do you know?”

“Well, it’s a long story,” Costa’s voice crackled, “It all started when the team and I were enjoying some, ah, _refreshments_ in the surveillance room, swapping stories about… well, the _point_ is –”

The sound on the communicator flickered, cut out briefly, and then popped back on.

“Hey, it’s Jaquie,” she sounded out of breath, “Costa had to go _help with the door_.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” They heard his faint shouting as he trudged off to join the others.

“Balth and his team cracked the anonymous email Meg received about Cornwall being in this area,” Jaquie continued. “Turns out, it was _from_ Cornwall.”

“Oh my god,” Freddie had to sit down, her hands gripping the edge of the tattered couch, “it was a trap. We walked right into his trap and now they’re _gone_ and it’s _our fault_.”

“What’s the plan, Jaquie,” Ben said, putting a hand on Freddie’s shoulder, “give us something to work with, _anything_.”

“Well, we’ve got one thing that might help,” she said, as Rosa sat down on the couch, putting an arm around Freddie in an unsuccessful attempt to comfort her. “A few hours ago, we got a blip from one of your communicators.”

“Really?” Peter asked, “whose?”

“It was pretty fast, but we think it was Beatrice’s,” Jaquie said, “that or Meg’s.”

“No, it was definitely Beatrice,” Paige said, her voice sounding far away from the communicator, “I remember because we color coded the dots on the screen, and hers was always red because she used to be Lady Disdain, and _disdain_ is sort of an angry word, so-”

“The _point_ is, we have an approximate last known location,” Jaquie sighed. “It might take us a while to get you out, you’re buried deep, but as soon as we do…”

“We can find them,” Rosa finished, nodding.

“Or... _or_ …” Freddie’s voice shook, she looked close to tears.

“No,” Benedick said, putting both hands on her shoulders and kneeling down until his face was level with hers. “Freddie Lauren Kingston, I’m not gonna let you think that way, alright? We are all going to get out of here, find Cornwall, and kick his ass. I’ve seen you when you’re angry, and I don’t think there’s a thing on this mountain that would dare get in your way. I need you to pull yourself together and gather up all the supplies we’ve got lying around.”

“Okay,” She said, taking a few deep breaths, “okay, yeah, I can do that.”

“Peter, Rosa, help her,” Ben ordered, and they nodded, jumping up from the couch and following Freddie into one of the bedrooms. “I’m going to stay on the communicators with the Worthies and try and come up with a plan. Or at least... something vaguely resembling a plan.”

“Ah, improvisation!” Costa’s voice in the background came through, “Truly one of the finest theatrical forms!”

“Less talking, more digging,” Jaquie snapped.

“Fine,” Costa said, indignant, “but I must say, I don’t like that tone, young lady.”

“ _Young lady?_ We’re the _same age._ ”

“Guys!” Ben gave an exasperated cry. “Can we focus?”

They talked over the communicators as time stretched on, every minute feeling like hours. Benedick wasn’t sure how he was keeping his cool, but he was worried that if he thought too hard about it, the spell would break. He watched his friends weaving through the small cabin, picking up anything they’d left lying around and packing it all together. He noticed Rosa wave Freddie away from Kit’s bag, urging her to go sit on the couch instead.

“How much longer is this going to take?” Now that her task was complete, Freddie was becoming more and more visibly anxious, pacing the floor, unable to stay still. “Every second we’re stuck in here is another second that the others are stuck with Cornwall! Who knows what he could be doing to them?”

“We’re going as fast as we can,” Jaquie said tightly. Ben could picture her gritting her teeth, trying her best not to yell.

“We know, Jaquie,” He assured her, leaning into the communicator, “you guys are doing great. It’s just a little tense in here right now. This has all been… a _lot_ to deal with.”

“Yeah,” Jaquie let out a long sigh. “Yeah, we know.”

There was a scraping sound, some muffled arguing from outside, and then –

The door swung open, and all four of the Worthies stood before them, beaming proudly.

“Spies of MESSINA,” Costa raised both his arms up dramatically, “thanks to the dedicated hard work of The Nine Worthies –”

Before he could continue his speech, the four formerly trapped spies sprinted past him and the other Worthies, immediately heading down the mountain.

“Sorry Costa!” Ben shouted over his shoulder.

“Rescuing’s not done yet, buddy,” Jaquie said, patting him on the shoulder before taking off after the others, Chelsey and Paige already running as well.

“She called me _buddy_ ,” Costa said aloud to no one, smile filling his whole face.

“Costa!” Paige called, “Keep up!”

“Coming!” He cried, and tore down the mountain after them.

“Here,” Rosa tossed him a rope when he caught up, “tie this around your waist.”

“What’s this for?” He asked, running it through his belt loops and knotting it tight as he could manage.

“In case there’s another avalanche or something,” She gestured to the rest of them – the rope was wound around each of their waists as well, linking them together. “We can’t risk getting separated again.”

“So where’s the rest of the rescue crew waiting?” Freddie asked.

“We _are_ the rescue crew,” Chelsey huffed, struggling to keep up with Freddie’s strides – the snow was knee deep and difficult to slog through.

“What?” Freddie stopped short, but the rope around her waist gave her a swift yank, and she started running again. “Wait, I’m sorry, the higher ups didn’t send anyone else? You’re not even spies! You aren’t _trained_ for this sort of thing!”

“Well, the funny thing about that is,” Paige confessed, “we didn’t actually contact the higher ups.”

“You _what?!_ ” Freddie’s eyes widened. “You went _rogue?!_ ”

“We did what we had to do,” Jaquie ground out.

“How did you even _get_ here?!”

“My old theatre pal Kel!” Costa explained. “He has a small plane that he uses to ship these fruits and vegetables –”

The ground shifted suddenly beneath them, snow falling away in huge slabs to reveal an abrupt drop, easily fifty feet. Chelsey slipped and let out a shriek, the rope around her waist pulled so taut that it knocked the others over one by one, sending them tumbling towards the abyss.

“Everybody hang on!” Costa shouted, reaching for the grappling hook clipped to his belt. He could barely see a thing as they were dragged through the snow – there was nothing between them and certain death but a few more meters. He saw a flash of something tall and sturdy, far above them.

It was their only chance.

He aimed the grappling hook, and he fired.

 

-

 

“Comfortable?” Cornwall asked, standing over Kit and the others with a sinister grin. He had them all tied together, back to back, their feet bound and all their weapons confiscated.

Kit didn’t understand how it had happened. He’d seen Boyet— _Cornwall—_ hurt Beatrice, shove her to the floor, and he’d wanted to help. But his reactions felt fuzzy, like he was moving underwater, and before he knew it Cornwall had taken him down.  

It didn’t make any sense. Sure he’d been shocked at Boyet’s betrayal, but that didn’t explain why he felt so disconnected from his body. Which begged the question: how long had he been feeling like this, and why hadn’t he _noticed_?

Beatrice spat on Cornwall’s shoe, her hands tied tightly behind her back like the others.

“Oh, come on now,” Cornwall simpered, twirling Meg’s knife in his hand, “let’s not degrade ourselves to that.”

“You son of a bitch,” Beatrice growled, “ _you_ shot Ben.”

“Guilty,” Cornwall put his hands in the air, “and I’ll bet you thought we had nothing in common.”

“ _Fuck_ you,” Beatrice snarled, her eyes murderous.

“Calm down, Lady Disdain,” he said, rolling his eyes, “it’s not like you’ll be alive long enough to miss him.”

“You’re a sick bastard, you know that?” Meg added, disgusted at the sight of him holding her knife. “You could have just let us die out in the snow, but you took us in? Gave us a place to stay and didn’t even _try_ to kill us? What, did your dollhouse break?”

“You’re blaming _me_ for this?” Cornwall said, looking almost offended. “If it wasn’t for you and the rest of your crew, my job would be done by now.”

“What are you talking about?” Kit asked, struggling with his ropes. If he could just find a little slack…

“All of you! The five extra spies!” Cornwall shouted, pointing the knife dangerously close to Kit’s face. “Meg, peach, when I sent you that email with my location, I didn’t exactly expect you to rally the troops.”

“That was _you?_ ” Meg gasped, “god, I should have known.”

“Of course it was me!” he sighed, “I’ve been searching for this one—” he gestured to Beatrice, “and her worthless husband ever since they tried to kill me last year. When my sources told me they were back in town, it was as simple as sending an email to bring them right where I wanted them.”

“But you weren’t expecting a plane full of us,” Kit said, more to himself than anyone else. Cornwall was outnumbered, he hadn’t prepared to be fighting against so many. Up on the mountain… he must have been coming to shoot Bea and Ben when they all burst out of the cabin at once. He panicked, shot at Ben, and then…

“The avalanche,” Kit said suddenly, his head shooting up, “that was you too, wasn’t it? You were going to kill Beatrice and Benedick and hide the evidence.”

“Of course I was!” Cornwall said, scowling. “What, you think things like that just happen for no reason? It was the perfect cover, or it _would_ have been, if you all hadn’t fucked it up.”

“If it wasn’t for us meddling kids and our damn dog, right?” Meg deadpanned, aiming a kick at his shins, which he dodged.

“Careful there,” Cornwall warned, a menacing grin spreading across his face, “or you’ll be going the same way as Signor Mountanto.”

Beatrice made a noise in the back of her throat, like a caged bear.

“You son of a _bitch_ ,” she repeated, Kit had never seen her look so furious, “you just couldn’t let it go, could you? Couldn’t believe that two _kids_ nearly took down your entire corrupt empire. I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

“Yes,” Cornwall said, eyeing his refection in the knife, “you should have.”

 

-

 

Brilliantly, _miraculously,_ the grappling hook caught hold.

Costa felt the jerk go through his whole body, but refused to lighten his grip. There was nothing between all of them and certain death except for the metal gadget he held tightly in his hands.

“Everyone okay?” he yelled down the line. It was hard to hear over the wind, but it didn’t sound like anyone was falling to their doom, so Costa took that as a good sign. “Hold on tight!” he called, pressing the trigger on the grappling hook again.

Slowly at first, and then faster, the line began reeling them upwards. It was like a reverse bobsled, the eight of them bumped and bounced up and away from the crevice, towards whatever object the grappling hook had latched onto.

As they came closer, Costa could make out exactly what it was: a lone tree, standing bare in the icy landscape. He couldn’t help but feel, a little foolishly, like they were a string of Christmas lights being pulled up and up into the tree’s branches.

After what felt like forever, his torso freezing and bruised, snow all down his coat, the grappling hook clicked back into place. They had reached level ground.

“Well,” Costa sputtered, stepping carefully to his feet, offering Rosa his hand, “that was… that was…”

“ _Amazing_ ,” Jaquie had pulled herself up as well, and was staring at Costa like she’d never seen him before. “Costa, you just saved all our lives.”

“Well,” he could feel himself blushing, “it wasn’t as showy as all that, really.”

“Who knew that old grappling hook would come in handy,” Paige said, helping Chelsey up.

“Yeah, those were definitely discontinued,” Peter muttered, walking up to inspect it. “Lucky we got one that actually works.”

Costa glanced backwards at the others. Ben was the last in line, he’d been dangling over the cliff itself and looked more than a little rattled. But despite all that, he still managed to give Costa a grateful smile.

“Poor tree needed a little decoration,” he said, brushing snow out of his hair.

“You know, I was thinking the exact same thing!” Costa said, looking back at the old tree with a grin. “I think with a few lights and a little love… hang on, somebody _has_ decorated it, look—”

He plucked something colorful and small off the tree, snagged on one of the lower branches. It looked woven, a little frayed around the edges, but still in good condition.

“Someone put this here recently,” he decided, holding it up for everyone to see, “a little late for Christmas, but—”

Before he could get another word out, Ben sprang forward.

“Whoa!” Freddie cried, feeling a jerk in her rope that nearly sent her sprawling. “Ben, what the hell?”

But he didn’t seem to be listening. He snatched the object out of Costa’s hands, lifting it close to his eyes so he could see. And then… Costa didn’t know what to make of it. Ben seemed to deflate, his breath quickening, holding the tiny woven thing like it was all that mattered in the entire world.

“Ben… what’s going on?” Peter asked, nervously.

“Oh my god,” Freddie had moved up close to see, and she seemed to recognize it too, putting a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

“It… this belongs to Beatrice,” he said quietly, holding it up to his wrist. Sure enough, there was an identical bracelet tied around it. “She was here. She was _right here._ ”

“Benedick…”

“We have to keep going,” he said, tucking the bracelet carefully into a coat pocket. “We’re close.”

“Ben is right,” Costa said, giving him a hearty pat on the back. “Chin up, honorary worthy, we’ll get there soon.” Benedick didn’t seem to be listening, his mind clearly still with the bracelet in his pocket.

“If he, if _Cornwall_ has done _anything…_ ”

“I’m right there with you, Ben,” Freddie said, scowling darkly as she readjusted her hat. “He’s in for a world of shit.”

 

-

 

Kit watched Beatrice screw her eyes shut and brace herself as the knife to plunged towards her. He had to wait for the exact right moment – too soon, and it could ruin everything for them. _Focus, Kitso,_ he told himself. _You need to make this work._

When the knife was inches from Bea’s chest, he sprang forward.  Cornwall let out a yell as Kit’s body collided with his, knocking him to the floor and pinning him down. He twisted Cornwall’s arms behind him and drove a knee into the small of his back, and Cornwall grunted in pain.  

“Cut yourself loose,” Kit said, sliding the knife towards Beatrice. Meg twisted her body and was able to grab it, even with her wrists tied behind her back, and after some finagling, was able to get herself free before immediately slicing the ropes binding Bea’s arms and legs, as well.

“Kit, are you alright?” Beatrice ran to him, bracing him by the shoulders. Her voice sounded far off, like she was worlds away. “You don’t look well at all.”

It was true – he was wavering a little, swaying despite Bea’s grip, and his eyelids were drooping.

“I’m fine,” He assured her, shaking his head as though it might make him more alert, “I’m just a little… woozy.”

He felt almost as though he was drunk, but that was impossible. All he’d been drinking since they’d gotten to Boyet’s cabin was…

“Oh my God,” Meg’s eyes widened, the realization hitting her the same moment it did him. “The cocoa. He’s been _drugging_ us.”

Kit’s mind whirled, replaying the last twenty-four hours or so. Boyet – _Cornwall_ – had given some to him and Meg before going out to find Beatrice. When they couldn’t sleep that night, he’d made them all more, and they’d passed out within seconds.

Beatrice had stopped drinking it when she woke up and realized he’d gone to the police without them. Meg had stopped drinking it when Beatrice noticed they were trapped. But he… he hadn’t. That’s why he’d been so sluggish, why he’d been so eerily calm about being locked in, why Beatrice’s urgency hadn’t reached him. The drug had stopped affecting the others, but he was still caught in the middle of it.

“ _Drugging_ us?” Beatrice repeated. “Why even bother?”

“Oh, like you’re so surprised,” Cornwall had the audacity to sound almost bored. “I’m a _drug lord,_ Lady Disdain. Come on now.”

“But why not just kill us?” She demanded.

“I had to know how many of you were left up in that cabin,” He said, oddly calm for someone who was currently face planted on a tile floor, “I had to get as much information as I could before I did away with you.”

“So when you claimed you went to the police – every time you left –” Beatrice looked stricken. “You were checking up on them, weren’t you? You’ve known where they are, this whole time!”

“I have,” Cornwall confirmed, and Kit felt himself lilting to the left, drowsiness overcoming him, “I have to say… that cabin didn’t look very structurally sound to me. I’d bet any money it collapsed in the avalanche. I bet they’re all up there, buried in the snow. No one will find their bodies for months, if even then…”

“But… Ben’s voice,” Beatrice faltered, uncertainty creeping in, “I _heard_ Ben’s voice, on my communicator… didn’t I?”

“Or _maybe_ ,” Cornwall continued, undeterred, “maybe I just got back from finishing the job.”  

In Kit’s mind, he was screaming. In his mind, he was bashing Cornwall’s head in. In his mind, Kit was tearing up that mountain, halfway to Freddie…

But Kit’s body wouldn’t cooperate. His head dropped, and he started to crumple. Cornwall threw him off like a ragdoll, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He felt paralyzed, lying on the floor, watching the scene unfold above him –

 _Stay awake, Kitso,_ he pleaded with himself, _stay awake, stay alive._

He saw Beatrice lunge for Cornwall, and he remembered how she told him once hand to hand combat wasn’t her strong suit. _I’m better at a distance, Ben handles the up close stuff,_ she’d confessed, _it’s why we’re such a great team._

He watched as Cornwall leaned back and delivered a kick directly to Bea’s abdomen, sending her flying backwards. Her body slammed full force into the closet door, the wood splintering about her as it shattered. He saw her slumped down on the floor, moaning in pain.

“ _Get up,_ ” he whispered urgently, though whether he was trying to tell Bea or himself, he wasn’t sure.  “You have to get up.”

“Darling Meg,” Cornwall turned to her. Meg was gripping her knife, keeping her distance. “I must admit, I’ve enjoyed having you here the most. We get along well, don’t you think?”

Cornwall had his back turned to him, but Meg was facing Kit head-on. He could see the nervous but determined look in her eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” She snarled.

Kit reached up, looking for something, _anything_ to hold onto. His hand latched onto the granite countertop, and he pulled himself upwards, grunting softly.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Cornwall sighed, still focused on Meg, “don’t you think we’d make an excellent pair? I know your type, little Nutmeg. I can offer you money, power, status… respect. Isn’t that what you want?”

Kit managed to stand, and he locked eyes with Meg. He signaled at her, making a circle with his hand, and mouthed: _keep him talking_. Her nod was so slight, it was nearly imperceptible.

“Respect?” She repeated, her voice going soft. Her body language changed, her stance less defensive, and the knife began to lower, just a little. “How?”

“It’s as easy as being associated with me,” Cornwall said, and he took a step towards her. Meg dropped the knife lower still. “We could be partners. What’s mine is yours. Queen Meg, ruler of empires…”

“Empires?” The knife was resting limply in her hands, hanging by her side now. Cornwall took another step towards her, taking hold of her by the waist. Meg stared up at him, mouth slightly open, a dreamy, hopeful look in her eyes.

“Hey, Cornwall!” Kit shouted, and Cornwall turned abruptly.

“You’re _still_ awake?”

“Meg!” Kit shouted, “Now!”

“You think you know me?!” Meg plunged the knife into Cornwall’s side. “You don’t know _shit_ about me!”

He howled in agony and stumbled backwards, slumping against the sink.

“It’s over, Cornwall –” Kit started towards him, but his response time was still slow from the drugs. In a flash, Cornwall’s hands closed around the closest object he could find: a cast-iron skillet.

“You’re right,” He said, staring at Kit from behind his glasses, slipping halfway down his nose, “it _is_ over.”

The frying pan collided with the side of Kit’s head, and he went down like a sack of bricks.

 

-

 

Finding Beatrice’s bracelet had sparked new determination in everyone as they continued their long journey down the mountain, as fast as they could manage in the heavy snow. The sun had gone down, and the Worthies distributed flashlights so everyone could watch their step as the sky darkened. Hardly anyone said a word, beyond Paige shouting out directions whenever necessary.

“It shouldn’t be too much longer now,” She announced, holding up the GPS, “this seems to think we’re pretty close to Bea’s last known coordinates.”

“I don’t see why _I_ can’t be the one to hold the GPS,” Costa complained, earning sharp glares from the other Worthies. “Just because I got a _little_ distracted in the car doesn’t mean I don’t know how to work a simple –”  

“Wait, I think I see something!” Peter called out, and everyone stopped, craning to look where he was aiming his flashlight. A few meters away, in stark contrast to the crisp white snow, was a dark red glove. Resting right next to that was what looked like a thick black watch.

“A communicator,” Freddie said, her breath clouding in the cool night air, “who do you think…”

Peter picked it up, turning it over in his hands, then bent down to grab the glove.

“This was definitely Meg’s,” he said, squinting at it, “she must have lost it in the avalanche.”

“That’s a good sign,” Benedick nodded, “we’re on the right track.”

“Ben, who knows how far the snow carried that glove?” Freddie sighed, “it doesn’t mean we’re any closer to finding -”

“Um, guys?” Rosa’s gaze was focused on something further ahead, just barely in their sight line. “I think we found Cornwall’s base.”

They all turned to look, staring through the darkness at the looming shape just coming into view.

“Jesus,” Jaquie’s eyes widened. “That’s not a base, that’s a _fortress_.”

“That’s a _mansion_ ,” Chelsey corrected, gaping.

“It’s about to be infiltrated, whatever it is,” Freddie said darkly, her voice a warning.

“Come on,” Ben said, running his thumb across Bea’s bracelet in his pocket, as though it might somehow let her know they were coming. “We’re ending this, _now_.”

 

-

 

Beatrice took a careful breath, wincing at the sharp pain in her side, assessing the damage that had been done to her. Bruised ribs, if not cracked. Something awful had happened to her right elbow when she collided with the door, but she wasn’t sure what yet. Beyond that: a fucking awful headache.

She didn’t see what happened to Kit, but she heard the whole thing. Only Meg was left standing – at least, as far as Cornwall knew. There was a knife in his side, but other than that, they had no weapons. Clearly, Cornwall was skilled in hand-to-hand combat. It was going to take some quick thinking and nothing short of a miracle to beat him.

And that’s when she saw it: tucked in the back of the closet, peeking out from under a stray blanket – a backpack with the MESSINA logo on it.

 _Well then,_ Bea said to herself, grabbing for the bag, _there’s our miracle._

Carefully, as quietly as she could, she began unzipping the bag. There was no time now to think about where it had come from, only what could be lying inside. A sharp pain shot through her ribs and made her vision spotty, but she held in a cry, pushing through the pain as her eyes watered.

“ _Kit_ !” Meg shouted, her voice hoarse, “Cornwall, you… _you_ …”

“You don’t know what you’ve just thrown away, Meg,” Cornwall’s voice crackled. He sounded unhinged, and Beatrice was glad she couldn’t see his face. “You stupid, naïve girl.”

With one final, gentle tug, Bea got the bag open. Cornwall couldn’t see her, wouldn’t be paying her any attention anyway, as long as she stayed silent. She began fishing through its contents, begging for something useful. Weapons, smoke bombs, _anything._

But to her dismay, her first findings were mundane. A blue and white striped shirt, a pencil case decorated with coffee beans, a day planner thick with post it notes and extra papers… and suddenly it all clicked in Bea’s mind. This was _Freddie’s_ bag, the one that fell out of the plane when they crashed. Cornwall must have grabbed it in case there was any sensitive information inside. But that meant… she felt her stomach drop. If there had been any weapons in here to begin with, Cornwall would have taken them for himself.

“You’re the one who’s naïve, Cornwall,” Meg said, her eyes darting around for something to defend herself with. “Coming up here all by yourself with no back up, thinking you could take two MESSINA spies down without any help, how arrogant can you get?”

“And how has your _team_ been of any help to you, hmm?” he asked, and Beatrice heard him cry out, like he’d pulled the knife from his side. “You three were so busy moping about your precious friends, you didn’t question a single thing I told you. I barely _needed_ to drug your drinks, you were all so clueless.”

Bea felt her heart pounding, she knew Cornwall would come into view any second. With no way to defend herself, Cornwall would kill Meg, see that Beatrice was still breathing, and kill her too. She was no good at hand to hand combat, she never had been, despite Ben’s help, so that was out. The “miracle” backpack was a dud, unless she needed to jump out of a plane.

Wait…

“You’re all going to die up here,” Cornwall said, as Beatrice rearranged the backpack in her arms, doing her best not to move her screwed up elbow. “Your organization will fall, and there will be nobody left to stop me.”

“And nobody to stop you from bleeding out on the floor,” Meg snarled, as Beatrice found the tab  she was looking for, bright blue against the green fabric, mentally preparing herself. He would be coming into view any second…

“What, this?” Cornwall said innocently, finally coming into view. His side was flushed with blood, his button down shirt torn. “This is nothing, _nothing_ , compared to what’s going to happen to you.” The knife flashed in his hands, it was now or never.

“HEY,” Beatrice shouted, and the two of them turned towards her, “THIS IS FOR MY HUSBAND, YOU ASSHOLE!” She pulled the _release_ tab on Freddie’s backpack, and the emergency sled inside shot out like an airbag. It hit Cornwall head on, knocking him to the floor with a crash..

And then, before anything else could happen, before Beatrice could call out to Meg or stand up or even _move_ , the front door exploded inward, smacking Cornwall square in the head as it toppled off it’s hinges, landing right on top of him.


	16. Chapter 16

A dozen things seemed to happen at once. Light spilled into the room, along with gusts of cold air and flurries of snow. Ben watched as Paige and Chelsey hoisted the door off of Cornwall, who – though still breathing – lay motionless on the ground. He watched as Costa knelt on the floor and bound him by wrists and ankles while Jaquie pulled out her communicator and contacted MESSINA.

He watched Meg run to Peter and Rosa, catching them both in a hug. He watched as Peter immediately searched her for any wounds, watched Rosa slip out of her grasp and drift from room to room, just in case there were more.

He watched Freddie’s gaze settle on the crumpled heap in the center of the room.

“Kitso!” The scream tore through her, and she ran to him, dropping to the ground beside him.

A dozen things seemed to happen at once, but finding Beatrice was not one of them.

Benedick felt something catch in his chest. Everyone was accounted for except the person he most needed to see, the person who mattered the most to him. What if Beatrice was in the same condition Kit was? What if she was _worse?_ What if –

He heard a soft groan nearby, and his whole heart lifted. He turned the corner, just beyond the kitchen, and the first thing he saw was a shattered closet door, splintered practically to pieces. And then, he looked down.

“Beatrice!”

She looked up at him, face white as a sheet.

“I thought you were dead,” She said, her voice filled with wonder and disbelief. “…Am _I_ dead?”

“ _No_ , love,” Ben said, and he was so overcome with relief he almost laughed. “I’m alive, you’re alive, we’re okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” She said, and then she burst into tears.

“No, love, no –” He pulled her up, carefully extracting her from the ruined door, and she let out a sharp cry of pain. He pulled away, scanning her body for wounds. Her right arm was cradled to her chest, and he could see bruises were already forming on the parts of her skin that were visible. “What happened? What hurts?”

“Everything,” She sobbed, and then: “ _nothing_ , nothing, because you’re alive and that’s all that matters.”

Ben took her face in his hands and kissed her all over: her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, her chin, the top of her head, the tears that slipped from the corners of her eyes – anywhere and everywhere he could.

“I’m so sorry I said those things,” She whimpered, “I’m so sorry that we fought, Ben, I was so afraid –”

“You have _nothing_ to be sorry for,” said Ben, tears brimming in his own eyes, “Do you hear me, Beatrice? Nothing. I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve been more supportive, should’ve _listened_ – Beatrice, I’m so _sorry_ if I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough _–_ you’re _always_ enough, _more_ than enough –”

“No, no, we were both wrong,” Beatrice shook her head, and caught his lips in a quick kiss, “I love you. I love you so much and you’re _alive_ and that’s all that matters right now.”

“I love you too,” He said, and he kissed her again, this time letting it linger.

“Oh,” Beatrice pulled away suddenly, a new fear in her eyes. “I have to tell you something. In the avalanche, I – I lost my bracelet somehow, and I just – it was an accident, I don’t know how it happened – god, Ben, I’m _so_ sorry, I accused you of thinking our marriage was a _mistake_ and then _I_ went and lost my –”

“Bea,” He said, pressing his forehead to hers, “stop that. You really think I need some piece of jewelry to tell me that you love me? I already know. I’ll always know.”

She gave a watery smile, then buried her face in his neck.

“ _Although_ ...” he said, and she pulled away again, giving him a curious look. He reached in his pocket, a mischievous grin on his face. “I did just _happen_ to stumble upon this on the way down the mountain…”

He pulled out the bracelet, and Bea burst into tears all over again – tears of relief and gratitude, this time. Tears of joy. Wordlessly, she held her left arm out to him, and he brushed his lips across her bare wrist before carefully tying the bracelet around it.

“If that’s not proof I’ll always find my way back to you,” He grinned, “I don’t know what is.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” Jaquie’s voice was gentler than Ben had ever heard it. She gave a slight jerk of the head towards the door, where a few of the others were waiting, Cornwall at their feet. “But our ride is here.”

 

-

 

A dozen things seemed to be happening at once, but Freddie wasn’t paying any attention to any of them. As the door broke down, as snow and sleet were blown into the air around them, as they entered the chateau together, her senses seemed to dwindle. People were moving around her, hugging and reuniting and assessing damage, but she couldn’t make her legs move. All she could do was stare, stare at the single person crumpled in the center of the room.  

“ _Kitso!_ ” she heard the scream tear through her, eat its way up her throat as her feet began to move again, propelling her towards the one thing, the one person that mattered most.

She skidded to her knees beside him, frantically turning him onto his back, her medical reflexes taking over. _Check for a pulse, check for a pulse, check for a pulse,_ it rang in her mind a million times as she resisted pulling him into a tight hug— she couldn’t be sure what injuries he’d sustained.

Freddie slipped her fingers under his neck and waited, feverishly praying for a pulse. One second… two seconds…

_Buh bum._

She let go of the breath she didn’t know she was holding, breaking into sobs of relief. They filled her entire body, every emotion she’d been holding onto since the avalanche and since the rules and since everything had gone wrong came spilling out of her, leaving tear tracks down her face. After all they’d been through, Kit was _alive_.

Freddie lifted his head gently, pulling it into her lap and running a hand down his cheek. There was clear bruising on the side of his face, a concussion probably, and it brought a new wave of tears to her eyes. She noticed his glasses laying a little way away, one of the lenses cracked badly down the center.

She curled over him protectively, her tears dripping off her cheeks and onto his.

“I’m so sorry, Kit,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out. “This… this is my fault, if I hadn’t…”

There was a hand on her shoulder, but Freddie didn’t look up. She kept herself close to Kit, unwilling to budge away from him even for a second.

“Freddie,” she heard Ben say, like he was a long way away, “Freddie, we have to go.”

She could only shake her head, tightening her grip on Kit. She wouldn’t leave him now, she _wouldn’t._

Someone had picked up Kit’s wrist, Freddie could feel his arm move.

“He’s alive!” Beatrice’s voice this time. “Oh my god, let’s get him to a hospital.”

“Freddie,” Ben said again, “come on, we’re going to take him on the plane with us.”

She didn’t make a move, couldn’t bear the thought of stepping away…

A warm hand touched the back of her head, Benedick’s voice quiet and clear beside her.

“Freds, we have to keep him alive,” he said, “there’s nothing else we can do for him here, so we need doctors to help him. Right?” Freddie hesitated before nodding her head yes, slowly. “Okay,” Ben continued. “But you’re going to be right there with him every step of the way, I promise.”

She nodded again, opening her eyes to stare down at Kit’s face. His lovely, perfect face.

And then, before she could stop herself, she felt the words slip out of her in a whisper.

“I _love_ you.”

 

-

 

Everyone but Freddie, Kit, Beatrice, and Ben had taken the long flight back to MESSINA, once Cornwall had been handed over to the authorities. The others were reluctant to leave them, but in the end, it was Ben who convinced them to go. _Hero’s probably worried sick. And besides, someone’s got to go home and tell the higher ups about this – there’s a world of paperwork waiting for you. We’ll be fine here._

Beatrice’s elbow had been broken – a nurse took one look at it and made a face, immediately ushering her in to see a doctor. She had x-rays taken, a cast made up, complete with a sling to keep it all in place.

“Oh, also, my husband was shot,” Beatrice pointed to Ben, “can you just check out his wound, to make sure everything is healing up okay?”

“Shot?” The doctor repeated, shocked. “Yes, absolutely, let me take a look. Are you alright?”

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” Ben laughed good naturedly and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the wound. “You know, I’ve been shot two times in my life, and one of them was my wife. Fifty percent of the times I’ve been shot, it’s been at her hand!”

“So dramatic,” Beatrice said, beaming at him.

“Wow,” The doctor seemed surprised, running a gloved hand over the wound. “Who took care of this for you? This is incredible.”

“When getting shot is an occupational hazard, you learn a thing or two about closing up a bullet wound,” Benedick joked.

“Goodness,” The doctor’s eyes widened, “what kind of vacation are you people on?”

 

-

 

Freddie had been at Kit’s side for the whole journey, until he was brought in to see a doctor. For that, she was forced to wait outside, despite her numerous (and very loud) protests. She slumped down in a chair in the waiting room, left alone with a thousand terrifying thoughts running through her mind – every single worst case scenario playing on repeat, the sight of Kit’s broken body reappearing every time she closed her eyes. It was agony to wait.

She tried to force herself to think positive thoughts, to keep her spirits up and focus on the good memories she had with Kit. Like the night they’d gone out for drinks together - a night that later, Kit told her he considered to be their first date. Or when she’d finally gathered up the courage to kiss him, pacing her room for hours before finally running the distance between their apartments, unable to stop herself.

It hadn’t been her first kiss, not exactly. When she was eight years old, Freddie kissed a kid on the playground just to see what it felt like. The experience was so underwhelming that she made up her mind never to do it again.

“ _Good girl_ ,” her grandmother said, flipping through a crime novel as Freddie finished her dinner. “ _The best spies don’t have time for distractions like that._ ”

She hadn’t been kissed again until her freshman year of high school, when she was dragged to the world’s worst house party. Music blared from the basement, half the crowd was far too drunk to drive, and the other half had already passed out.

And there was Freddie, in her new overalls, wishing she could disappear.

She’d been harboring a crush on the cute boy in her biology class, the head of the football team a few years ahead of her. When he approached her at the party, clearly drunk and leaning in closer and closer, she didn’t immediately back away. But when he kissed her, tasting like cheap beer, his hands grasping at her waist, her crush was dead on arrival.

She judo flipped him over her shoulder and walked out, but the taste stayed with her all evening.

“ _What did I tell you_?” her grandmother said knowingly the next morning, while Freddie scrubbed angrily at dishes. “ _Parties only waste your valuable time_.”

So she never went to one again.

Freddie worked and worked to get her job at MESSINA, never letting herself get distracted by parties or people or anything that could hinder her career, until…

Until Kitso Harper walked into her office, and changed her entire world.

“ _Focus on what you want, Freddie_ ,” her grandmother had always said. “ _Don’t just follow the crowd, stand up for yourself. Know what_ you _want._ ”

Freddie did know what she wanted. She knew _exactly_ what she wanted. The problem was, it was something she wasn’t _supposed_ to want, wasn’t _allowed_ to want. She had pushed away her feelings for so long because they were too impractical; spy romances never ended well, everyone knew that. But after months of side glances and late night conversations, months of catching him looking at her during meetings, months of being steps away from kissing him, she was pretty sure they both wanted the same thing. Still, Kit had become her best friend - her _only_ friend. What if by kissing him, she ruined everything? If something happened, if they got caught… she would lose the two things that meant most to her.

But when she finally found the courage to kiss him, it was a revelation. It was nothing like the boy on the playground, or the one from the party. As far as Freddie was concerned, whatever she’d been doing before was not kissing.

As far as she was concerned, kissing Kitso was the most amazing thing that had ever happened.

The memory succeeded in making her happy for one beautiful, blissful moment - and then she sank back to the harsh reality that surrounded her. Now, she might never get to kiss him again.

“Hey, Fredster.” Ben took one of the empty seats next to her, Beatrice taking the other. He nudged his knee against hers. “You holding up okay?”

“Not really,” She murmured, willing herself not to cry. _Crying doesn’t solve anything. Crying won’t make Kit better. Crying won’t undo what’s already happened_. “What if he doesn’t make it? What if I never get to tell him –”

“Whoa, slow down,” Beatrice said, laying a hand on top of Freddie’s. “Believe me, I understand. The whole time we were separated, I was terrified that Ben had… that I might never see him again. It almost destroyed me. You can’t let it do that to you. Kit is going to be okay. You got him here in time. He’s going to have a hell of a headache when he wakes up, _but he will wake up_. Okay?”

“How can you be so sure?” She asked, voice wavering.

“Because I saw how amazing he was back there, against Cornwall,” Beatrice said. “That boy is a fighter, Freddie. He’s gonna get through this.”

“I just can’t stand the thought of not getting to tell him how I feel,” Freddie admitted. “That whole time we were separated, the way we left things in the cabin… he thinks that I don’t love him. He thinks that I – he thinks that I don’t feel the same way as he does. Or… the way that he _did_ , anyway.”

“Freddie –” Beatrice started.

“No, really,” Freddie was on a roll now, frantic. “After the way I treated him, he probably doesn’t ever want to _see_ me again. What if he wakes up and I’m the last person he wants to see? And I can’t even blame him, after the way I acted – he probably thinks I’m a total monster. Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed, maybe –”

“Freddie, _stop._ ” Beatrice’s voice was so demanding that it stopped Freddie short, and she turned, surprised. “The whole time we were trapped, the _whole time_ we were in that chateau… you were all Kit could think about, all he could talk about. He was just as worried about you as you were about him.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Beatrice nodded. “He loves you, Freddie.”  

“Freddie Kingston?”

She jumped at her name, practically running to the nurse who’d called her.

“Here for Kitso Harper, right?” The nurse asked, and Freddie nodded.

“Yes,” she said desperately, “yes, can you tell me how he is? When can I see him?”

“Here’s the basic rundown,” He glanced down at his clipboard, “He’s suffered a linear skull fracture. I know that probably sounds scary, but that actually means he’s _incredibly_ lucky. As far as fractures go, that’s the best case scenario that can come out of blunt force trauma. It doesn’t even require surgery.”

“Oh my God,” Freddie could feel the relief spreading through her body, feeling like she could breathe for the first time in hours. “So he’s going to be okay?”

“Well, there was an incredibly high amount of drugs in his system,” The nurse continued, “He ingested a dangerous amount of sedatives. But we were able to stabilize him, and he’s going to be just fine, although he may not wake up for a few more hours. And you should know – he looks a lot worse than he is. I just want you to be prepared for that.”

“Okay,” Freddie nodded again, her head bobbing up and down furiously, “Okay, thank you. Does that mean…?”

“Yes,” He confirmed, “you can go see him now. He’s in room 308.”

He’d barely finished the sentence before Freddie took off down the hall, as quickly as her feet would take her. _305, 306, 307…_ she spotted room 308 and paused just outside the door, taking a deep breath, steeling herself for what was inside.

Despite the enormous bruise that had blossomed on the left side of his face, the bandage wrapped around his head, and the IV drip in his arm, Kit looked incredibly peaceful, lying there in the hospital bed. Already, he looked worlds better than how he had at the chateau – she was so glad that she almost started crying again right then and there.

She wanted nothing more than to curl up beside him, but she didn’t dare disturb the wires and tubes he was hooked up. Instead, she pulled a chair up right next to the bed, and took his hand in hers.

“I am so, so glad you’re okay,” She whispered. She felt a little foolish – it wasn’t like he could hear her – but she couldn’t help herself. She had to say it. “And I feel so stupid, for being afraid when you told me you love me. I was so scared of falling in love.” She let out a watery laugh, shaking her head. “God, I had no idea what real fear was. This – almost losing you – _that’s_ something to be afraid of.” She stroked her thumb along the back of his hand, a newfound determination in her voice. “There’s nothing scary about falling in love. I see that now. And when you wake up, I promise… I’ll never be afraid of it again.”

She waited a beat, but Kit didn’t stir. She tried not to let herself be disappointed – the nurse had warned her he might be asleep for another few hours. It was dumb of her to expect him to wake up just because she was with him now. But still, a part of her had hoped…

“That’s okay, Kitso,” she said softly. “Take all the time you need. You’re worth the wait.”

And then, something amazing happened.

Kit opened his eyes.

 

-

 

For a long time, there was nothing at all.

Pitch blackness surrounded Kit like a curtain, enveloping him in its emptiness. He tried to move, tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even think, his mind was so bogged down.

And then, just in the corner of his vision, there was light. It swirled downwards, filling his eyes with color. He stepped forward into it, feeling memory whirl like a hurricane around him. Visions of his life, of the people that mattered most…

He saw Freddie’s face in the chaos, and he reached out, the memory passing through his fingers like water.

_She’s gone_ , he told himself, _she’s gone, Kit, you’re never going to…_

Even in a dream, he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. His memories had changed, shifting to images of her— Freddie. The way she’d pulled her hair up when they first went to get drinks, her face on the morning she kissed him, soft and lovely in his hands. The last time he’d seen her, red hair whipping like fire in the wind, too far away to see her expression, screaming words he would never hear.

 

“ _There’s nothing scary about falling in love."_

 

Kit’s heart ached. It was her voice, Freddie’s voice, but he had never heard her say those words before. Her voice was so warm and real; he couldn’t bear to hear it.

 

_"_ _When you wake up, I promise… I’ll never be afraid of it again.”_

 

He wished it would stop, that his mind would stop inventing things he would never hear her say. She was _gone._

But then… she’d told him to wake up. Wake up from this dream, nightmare, whatever it was. This world where she still existed, alive and in love with him. If he could just wake himself up…

 

_"Take all the time you need. You’re worth the wait.”_

 

Or maybe... he couldn’t help but think it, he was too optimistic a person - maybe Freddie would be there when he woke up.

He screwed up his eyes, hoping against everything in the world that somehow, _somehow_ , she could still be alive.

He opened his eyes.

Bright lights. A persistent ringing in his ears. A bed underneath him. A fierce, raging ache in his head. And his hand… there was someone holding his hand, brushing a thumb over his knuckles so gently.

Kit turned to look, and there she was.

Her hair fell messily around her shoulders, spilling every which way. Her almond eyes were wide, red rimmed and unblinking; she stared at him, her lips slightly parted in surprise. He heard her gasp, saw her free hand grasp the edge of her chair, knuckles white. She was there, next to him, holding his hand so tightly he could feel each finger dig into his palm.

“Freddie…” he mumbled, his voice faint, the ringing in his ears finally beginning to die down.

“I love you,” Freddie burst out, breathlessly. Kit stared at her.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” He replied slowly, holding her gaze. “I’ve died.”

_"No_ ,” she said, “no, Kit…” Her eyes screwed up, he saw tears begin to fall down her face.

“No no no no no, _Freddie_ ,” Kit reached out, brushing a tear away from her cheek – she was there, _really truly_ there beside him. “I just… I thought _you_ were dead.” He felt hot tears beginning to build behind his own eyes, but he pushed them back.

“I love you,” she said again, leaning into his palm, “Kitso, I love you so much and I’m _so_ sorry.”

“You… you don’t have to say that,” Kit said, his heart swelling in his chest but his brain still disbelieving. “I mean, if you don’t mean it, I don’t want to _make_ you…”

“Stop,” she said, shaking her head, “please stop talking. I had an extensive list of things I was going to tell you and I forgot every single one of them so I’m giving you the abbreviated version until I remember exactly what I wanted to say.”

“Okay,” Kit said, unable to keep a grin from spreading across his face. God, it was her. She was alive, and beautiful, and she _loved him._ “I’ll stop talking.”

“Thank you,” Freddie said, breathing deeply. “Okay, when you got hurt—”

“Did I get hurt?” Kit blinked, dragging his eyes away from Freddie to stare at his surroundings. “Am I in a _hospital_?”

“Seriously?” she let out a watery laugh, rolling her eyes, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m sorry!” he said quickly, laughing along with her, “ _believe_ me, I want to listen to you, but it just seemed like an important question to ask.” Her face softened, and she squeezed his hand.

“You have a skull fracture,” she explained, gesturing to the side of her face, “right here. Meg says Cornwall hit you with a frying pan. Bastard.” She spat the last word, her face hardening at the mention of his name.

“Cornwall—”

“He’s with the rest of the team,” Freddie explained, “we took you to the nearest hospital, in Switzerland, everyone else went back to base. Well, except Bea and Ben. They’re fine,” she said quickly, as she saw Kit’s expression, “Beatrice shattered her elbow pretty badly, and obviously Benedick wasn’t going back without her. You know, I heard he told the nurse that _he_ fixed his arm? That liar, if it wasn’t for me he would have bled out in two seconds. It was only a surface wound anyway—”

“I love you.” It was Kit’s turn to say it, he’d felt the words bubble up inside him like a fountain and hadn’t even bothered to hold them back.

“You do?” she asked, breathlessly, her eyes wide. “I mean, you _still_ do, after everything?”

“Freddie,” he said, quietly, “I never stopped.”

Freddie’s face softened into a smile, her hand squeezing his, tears in her eyes.

“I love you too,” she replied.

God, if Kit had felt elated to see her alive, it was nothing compared to that.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her towards him a little, “get over here.”

Freddie smiled widely as she leaned forward, pressing a hand to the uninjured side of his face and falling deeply into a kiss. It was better than anything else in the world, feeling her hair curled through his fingers, her breath on his skin, her forehead stacked on his. There was a song in his head and his heart and the only lyrics were her name, over and over.


	17. Chapter 17

It was shaping up to be a week of things Freddie never thought she’d say. She showed up bright and early as usual the morning after they’d returned from the hospital and planted herself outside of Peter’s office, waiting for him to arrive. She’d told Kit about her plan, and he’d been incredibly supportive – no surprise there. She could’ve told him she was thinking of leaving MESSINA to go crab fishing in Alaska for a year, and he would’ve said _great, if that’s what makes you happy! I hear Alaska’s lovely in the summertime._

She was nervous, but she knew she was making the right call. She could only imagine what her grandmother was going to think of all this.

“Morning, Freddie,” Peter greeted, and she snapped to attention – she hadn’t even heard the main doors opening, she was so caught up in her own thoughts. “How’s Kit doing?”

“I need to talk to you,” She said, the words tumbling out of her. “Sorry, I mean – Kit is fine. He’s at my apartment right now, resting up. I’m going to go home at lunch to check up on him. Oh, and I need to talk to you.”

“Sure thing,” He gave her a curious look as he unlocked his door, and she followed him into his office. “What’s up? You okay?”

“I want to step down.” Immediately, Peter started laughing. Freddie stared at him, her mouth agape. “I’m not joking, Peter! I still want to work for MESSINA, but I’m going to step down as co-leader. I don’t want to be in charge anymore.” Peter only laughed harder. She smacked his arm, annoyed. “Stop laughing at me! I’m serious!”

“No, it’s not that,” He said, covering his face with his hands in an attempt to stifle himself. “It’s just – I was going to say _exactly_ the same thing to you. I don’t want to be in charge anymore, either.”

“Seriously?” Freddie asked, a giggle escaping her lips.

“ _Seriously,_ ” He confirmed, nodding.

“I can’t believe we’re both doing this! This has been tormenting me ever since the avalanche!”

“Me too,” He said, “I honestly thought you’d be happy! I thought you’d want to lead alone.”

“A week ago, I would’ve,” She admitted. “But I’ve had a few, uh… how should I put this… _enormous_ character flaws brought to my attention.”

Peter snorted, and Freddie bit her lip, trying to hold in another giggle.

“I wouldn’t say _enormous_ ,” He said carefully, and Freddie’s laughter came out in a burst.

“That’s very generous of you,” She smiled. “But in all seriousness, I definitely let the power go to my head this past year. I was so focused on myself, and my own career, that I wasn’t giving the people around me the attention or respect they deserved. And who knows, maybe I can earn being a leader again someday, but for now… I think I need to go back to basics.”

“I don’t think I ever want to be a leader again,” Peter admitted. “I swear, I spend so much time trying to make everyone around me happy, I wind up stretching myself so thin I can’t keep up. I miss being a team player, I miss being in the thick of the action. And I was trained for this position when I was still so new to MESSINA, and still so _young_ – I was only eighteen when they started grooming me for it, and at the time I was so excited, because I felt so _important_ , you know? But now, I just… I feel like I missed out on a lot.”

He paused, all the mirth and laughter from earlier gone. There was a strange look on his face, like his mind had gone elsewhere.

“Peter?” Freddie prompted, giving him a gentle kick under the desk, “…Is that not the real reason?”

“No, it is!” He assured her, “It is. It’s just, uh…” He hesitated. “I mean, in _addition_ to that, it’s just... My parents called me last night. Apparently, they got a letter from John. I’m not sure what that means for the rest of us – whether it means ARAGON is reforming, or MESSINA is in danger, or if it even has anything to do with me at all, but… I don’t think it’s right for me to be in charge of MESSINA, if that happens. I’m too close to the situation, I don’t want to be the one making calls when it’s my brother on the other end of it. It didn’t go so well for me last time that happened.”

The corners of Freddie’s lips turned down as she listened, sympathy for Peter swelling up inside of her. Comforting people had never been her strong suit, and he seemed so uncomfortable.

“You know what we should do?” She suggested, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Peter looked up, a slow, questioning smile spreading across his face. “We should break into that champagne the higher ups sent over and have a toast. To stepping down!”

“It’s nine in the morning!” He cried.

“So?” She raised a brow, a challenge. “We’ll add orange juice and call it breakfast.”

“Honestly?” Peter smiled, “that sounds like _exactly_ what we need right now.”

 

-

 

They held a company-wide meeting to announce their decision later that afternoon, gathering all of MESSINA’s employees in the hub. Everyone from the spies to the maintenance staff was there, listening to the news with surprise.

“In the end, we feel strongly that this is the right call,” Freddie explained, “it’s what’s best for this company and it’s what’s best for Peter and me.”

“We’re excited to continue working alongside you instead of above you,” Peter finished.

“Hang on,” Ben frowned, “if neither one of you is going to be the boss anymore, who is? Are the higher ups bringing in somebody new?”

Freddie and Peter shared a look, nervous smiles growing on both of their faces.

“Actually,” Freddie said, “we made our own call on this one.”

Benedick raised his eyebrows. He and Peter had been getting along so well since they talked things out in the cabin. He’d just become friends, _bros_ even, with Freddie, who had turned out to be way dorkier than he could ever have imagined. And now, after all of that, he was going to have to get used to _another_ new boss? He could just imagine himself coming home after a long day to complain, “ _you’d never believe it Beatrice, they’re making us do all of our missions in bright green leotards!_ ”

“Freddie and I have considered our options, and truthfully, it didn’t take us very long to come to the same conclusion,” Peter said, looking so full of anticipation he could barely stand still. He looked over at Freddie, giving a small nod. She smiled back at him, and then turned her gaze.

Straight into the crowd.

Straight at…

“Benedick,” Freddie said, grinning broadly, “ _Signor Mountanto_. If you accept, we’d like to hand MESSINA off to you.”

Ben stared back at her, slack-jawed.  He had to have misunderstood, they couldn’t possibly… _him_? Leader?  

The crowd had been just as silent as him, but then someone let out a cheer, and suddenly the people around him burst into cries of excitement. Before he knew what was happening, he was surrounded by well wishers. People patting him on the back, shaking his hand, the Worthies practically drowned him in a group hug before shoving him up onto the stage with Freddie and Peter.

“Are you serious?” Ben asked incredulously, under the applause of the crowd.

“Yeah, _Bossman_ ,” Peter couldn’t contain his smile, reaching out for a handshake and then pulling him into a hug. “There’s no one better.”

“There’s no one better, or you couldn’t _find_ anyone better on such short notice?” Benedick joked, Peter’s words still ringing in his ears. _Bossman._

“We couldn’t find anyone better if we tried, Benedick,” Freddie said, beaming as she pulled him into another hug. “You really took charge on the mountain. You kept the team together when the rest of us were falling apart, and showed real promise as a leader. You’re going to crush it.”

“If you want to,” Peter added quickly, “you’re obviously our first choice, but if you don’t want to, we would never hold it against you.”

Benedick took a moment to stare out at the people of MESSINA; his best friends, his co-workers, those he cared about most in the world. Beatrice had her hands up to her mouth, her eyes shining, an enormous smile peeking through her fingertips. The Worthies were practically leading the crowd cheer, he felt an huge swell of pride in his chest at their enthusiasm. Could he lead these people? Was that what he wanted?

“Of course I will,” Ben returned his gaze to Freddie and Peter, feeling something like happy tears building behind his eyes. “You’re both so… I’ve learned so much from both of you. Peter, Freddie, _thank_ you.”

“Aww, Ben,” Freddie pulled him and Peter into one more group hug, “you know we love you, loser.”

And the best part was, he did.

 

-

 

Those first few days back, Beatrice and Benedick were connected at the hip. At MESSINA, they were never more than a few feet apart, leaned up against each other back to back as they filled out all the necessary forms detailing the plane crash, the avalanche, and the aftermath. When Beatrice had to write about Ben getting shot, she gripped his hand. When Benedick had to write about losing and then finding Beatrice, he dropped kisses on her shoulder, as if reminding himself she was safe.

At home, they were constantly together, Bea’s legs across Ben on the couch, or Ben lying with his head in Bea’s lap, or holding hands under the table during meals. Even in sleep, they remained curled around each other, sometimes waking one another up in the middle of the night just to make sure they were still there.

Finally, on the third night, Beatrice managed to tear herself away. She was anxious, a bundle of nerves - she didn’t want to break the spell, to ruin the peace that seemed to have settled over the two of them, but she knew they couldn’t go on ignoring what had happened before.

“I know that a lot of things got pushed to the back burner, because of what happened, but… we should probably talk.” She twisted her bracelet nervously. “Like, _really_ talk and _really_ listen to each other.”

“Yeah,” Ben reached over and bumped his bracelet against hers, and she smiled, relieved. “We probably should.”

“I know a lot of things are changing,” she said, “and that you’re in charge of MESSINA now, and I am so, _so_ proud of you, Ben. I really am. But… I still _really_ want to start my own facility. It started because of Freddie and the rules, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and it’s something I’m really passionate about. I think it could do a lot of good, and I –”

“Beatrice…” Benedick frowned. “That’s not really up for discussion anymore.”

Bea’s face fell. After everything they’d been through, after all they’d overcome this past week, how could he still be so dismissive? She didn’t have any anger left in her – just an overwhelming surge of disappointment.

“Because I already spoke to the higher ups,” He went on, and Beatrice’s heart caught in throat. Did that mean…? “And they gave us the go-ahead to start a sister facility.”

“Are you serious?” She asked, disbelief written all over her face.

“Completely,” Ben nodded, and she smacked him in the arm, hard.

“ _That’s_ for making me think we were still fighting about this,” She said, and then she caught him by the collar and pulled him in, kissing him deeply. “And _that’s_ for being on my side and believing in me.”

“I’m always on your side, Beatrice,” Ben smiled, wrapping his arms around her, “we’re a team.”

 

-

 

Freddie pushed open the door to her apartment, a bag of groceries in her arms and about a million pencils stuck in her ponytail. She’d been filling out reports all day and sticking them absently in her hair until she had a halo of graphite above her head.

“Kit?” she called as she knocked the door shut again with her hip, “you here?”

“Yeah,” he answered, his voice muffled. He emerged from the bedroom as she set the groceries down on the counter, and she turned around to kiss him with a grin.

“Hi,” she breathed, arms around his neck, “how are you?”

“That depends,” Kit chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear “did you get any apple juice?”

“I got _so much_ apple juice,” she said, reaching over to the bag and pulling out bottle after bottle. “I didn’t know what brand you liked, so I just grabbed a bunch of them.”

He watched her put them in the fridge, a strange expression on his face. She reached back around, leaning in to kiss him again, but he caught her cheek in the palm of his hand.

“Hey,” he said, gently, “I need to talk to you.”

“…Oh,” she said, biting her lip, “okay.” She tried to smile at him, but it didn’t feel right. He took in a deep breath, his face turned away.

“I guess I don’t really know how to say this.”

Freddie felt something in her chest freeze up. Kit didn’t look like himself - he couldn’t stop moving his hands, and he kept avoiding her eyes.

_Oh god,_ Freddie realized, _he’s breaking up with me_.

She should have known it wouldn’t last, that it was too good to be true. With all the drugs left in Kit’s system, he probably hadn’t even realized what he was _saying_ in the hospital. How many days had he been waiting to tell her that the whole thing had been a mistake? That he couldn’t be with her after everything she’d put him through?

“I know you’re not the boss at MESSINA anymore, so the ethical issue with dating isn’t a problem, but…”

But he didn’t love her.

But she was too much for him.

But he was moving to England and he never wanted to see her again in a million years.

“I’ve been talking to Meg and Bea, and I think I really want to take that job at the new facility.”

Freddie blinked. She stared at Kit, his face so full of uncertainty and hope, and she let out an enormous sigh, her eyes welling up against her control.

“Freds!” Kit said, alarmed, leaning in to brush the tears off her cheeks, “Freds, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –”

“No, Kitso,” she beamed, nudging her forehead up against his in relief, “I thought… it doesn’t matter what I thought. Of _course_ you should work at the new org.”

“Really?” he asked, “are you sure?”

“Are _you_ sure?” she countered, giving him a wry smile.

“Yeah,” he said, slowly, “yeah, I am.”

“Then I’m right behind you,” Freddie promised, pulling him into a hug, holding him close. “You could go work for ARAGON and I wouldn’t care, as long as you were happy.”

“Wow, ARAGON,” he laughed, kissing her on the cheek, “I don’t think MESSINA needs to go through that again. Besides, I’d prefer if we were on the same side.”

“Yeah,” She said, burying her face in his shoulder, “me too.”


	18. Epilogue

For the first time all night, Freddie found herself alone. Kit had been whisked off by Beg and Meg for some photos of them cutting into their (truly enormous) cake. She didn’t mind, though. She was so proud of him, of all of them. It was their night to celebrate the opening of their new organization, and it was well deserved. They’d decided to call it AQUITAINE - it was Meg’s suggestion, claiming it sounded like the palace they deserved. They had been working hard to make it the best facility they could hope for, on things big and small. (Just last week, Freddie and Ben were painting the walls of the office with them until well after midnight. Which reminded her – Ben had spilled paint on her favorite overalls and _still_ hadn’t gotten her the promised replacement pair.)

The dark blue tone they’d painted in the ballroom looked lovely now, illuminated by a center chandelier and a thousand tiny fairy lights.

“Hey, boss,” Rosa greeted, coming to join her at the table. She paused, frowning as she realized her mistake. “Wow, sorry. That’s gonna be a hard habit to shake. Hi, _Freddie_.”

“Hey, Ms. Liaison,” Freddie nudged her, smiling. “Congratulations, by the way. How does it feel to be working for two orgs at once?”

“I don’t know why I do this to myself,” Rosa gave a dramatic sigh, but she didn’t seem at all put out. “Double the orgs, double the work. But hey, we needed a link between the two –”

“And you _are_ the only one qualified,” Freddie added, “considering you’re the only one who’s worked with a set-up like this before.”

“I guess that’s true.” She smiled, pleased with herself. “How are you liking being a lowly employee?”

“I like it! It’s less stress on me, for sure. And it’s good for me to relinquish control once in awhile.” Freddie said, nodding more to herself than to Rosa. She smoothed the skirt of her dress and offered a sheepish smile. “I was kind of a shit boss.”

“What?” Rosa recoiled, making a face. “Freddie. Come on. You weren’t perfect, but you weren’t total shit. Believe me, I would know. I’ve worked for a _lot_ of orgs.”

“Sweet of you to say,” Freddie said, “but that’s doubtful.”

“You think you’re the first boss who’s ever let the power go to their head?” Rosa smirked. “Or made poor choices? I once had a boss who made us sleep in tents on company property so we were always available in the event of an emergency.”

“ _What?_ ” Freddie giggled, “He wouldn’t let you go _home?_ ”

“Nope,” Rosa shook her head. “And I had another boss who once called me into work early under the pretense of assigning me an important mission, but when I got to his office, he was completely naked and covered in whipped cream.”

“No!” Freddie gasped, hand flying to her mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter. “You’re _kidding_!”

“I am completely serious!” Rosa insisted. “And _another_ time I had this boss who wanted to test our survival skills, so she literally had a helicopter drop us in the Amazon Rainforest for two and a half weeks. My partner got dysentery. _Dysentery,_ Freddie. And I could go on. So trust me, you might’ve made a couple mistakes, but you are far from a shit boss.”

“Wow, Rosa… I don’t know what to say.” Freddie smiled gratefully. “I think this is the most pleasant conversation we’ve had since I hired you.”

“Yeah, well.” Rosa shrugged. “You’re kind of a badass, Freddie. I respect that.”

She rose from the table, offering Freddie a little salute before heading off towards the bar.

“Sorry that took so long,” Kit slid into Rosa’s vacated seat, pressing a kiss to Freddie’s cheek. “You look awfully happy.”

“I’m a badass,” Freddie informed him, goofy grin filling her whole face.

“You are!” He nodded, his eyes crinkling as he smiled, “you’re just figuring that out now?”

“Yesss!” she threw her arms in the air, spinning around in her seat.

The slow song playing over the speakers ended, replaced with a peppy, rock melody.

“Oh my god, I love this song,” Freddie said, closing her eyes and bopping her head along with the beat.

“I know,” Kit chuckled, his eyes following the bounce of her hair, the cardigan slipping down over her shoulder, the little freckles on her neck, “you know I saw you dancing to this, the night I asked you out?”

“You WHAT?!” Freddie turned and grabbed his sleeve, blushing up to her ears, mortified. “Kitso Harper, _tell_ me you’re joking.”

“Not joking,” he grinned. She stared at him, her eyebrows furrowed.

“And you _still_ wanted to ask me out for drinks?!”

“Freddie,” he laughed, “that’s _why_ I wanted to ask you out for drinks.”

 

-

 

Peter watched from other side of the room as Chelsey dragged Paige away from their table so the two of them could dance, leaving Balthazar alone. Immediately, he excused himself from his conversation with Maria, crossing the banquet hall and sliding into the seat next to him.

“Hey Peter,” Balthazar greeted, “I haven’t had a chance to say it yet, but congrats on stepping down. You seem a lot...”

“Calmer?” Peter joked.

“I was going to say happier,” Balthazar smiled.

“Thanks,” he grinned back. “I am. Freddie is, too.”

“That’s great,” Balth said. “It’s nice to see you both letting loose a little.” He glanced over to Freddie, dancing with Kit on the far side of the room.

“And since we both stepped down,” Peter continued, pushing ahead before he could change his mind, “a lot of rules are being revised.”

“Oh yeah?” Balthazar raised a brow. “No more curfews or kale smoothies?”

“Nope,” Peter said, “weirdly enough, Ben didn’t feel like keeping those.” They both chuckled at that, the image of Meg and Ben gleefully dumping all of her leftover smoothies off the roof still fresh in their minds.

“It, uh, also means there’s no more rule against inter-office relationships, either,” Peter added, desperately trying not to lose his nerve. “I mean, they’re still banned between bosses and their employees, but I’m –”

“Not anyone’s boss anymore,” Balthazar finished.

Peter nodded.

“So,” Balthazar joked, letting out a nervous chuckle, “does that mean you can finally ask out Lawrence in maintenance?”

Peter didn’t laugh. His eyes were locked with Balthazar’s, a hopeful smile on his face.

“Balth,” He said, “would you like to get coffee with me this weekend?”

“Kind of,” Balthazar replied, his eyes bright.

“Kind of?” Peter quirked his brow, smirking.

“Kind of a lot, actually.”

“Brilliant,” Peter smiled, “then it’s a date.”

 

-

 

Jaquie slammed her shot glass down on the table triumphantly, watching Peter’s face waver, then give in.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” he laughed, putting a hand on Balthazar’s shoulder to steady himself, “you beat me.”

“You’re damn right,” she smiled, reaching forward to shake his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

The Worthies cheered, Paige and Chelsey clinking their glasses, Costa brandishing his cream soda in excitement.

“Well done, Jaquie!” he chirped, patting her on the back. “Another win for the Worthies!”

“I knew he couldn’t take you,” Chelsey said, sipping her wine.

“Yeah babe, but he hasn’t seen her drink like we have,” Paige reminded her.

“Say, Jaquie,” Costa’s eyes narrowed as he watched Peter walk away, his smile turning mischievous, “I heard a rumor - maybe it’s preposterous of me to ask - but were you and Peter ever… you know...”

Jaquie raised her brow.

“ _You_ _know_ ,” Costa urged. “An ensemble? An item? A… a _ship,_ if you will? It’s just, I heard through my extensive collection of theatre friends that you were spotted at a bar, with Peter, and I was just _wondering_ \- not that it’s any of my business, of course!”

Jaquie stared at him like he’d grown an extra head.

“ _That?_ No,” she scoffed, pouring herself another drink. “We happened to run into each other, we talked for like ten minutes, and then we left. _Separately._ Honestly, Costa. Not _all_ of us are sleeping with our bosses.” She glanced across the room at Kit, whispering something in Freddie’s ear, and rolled her eyes. “Talk about stupid ideas.”

“Are we talking about stupid ideas?” Benedick approached their table with a grin, clapping Costa on the back. “Everyone’s chock full of them lately! Remember when they made me leader? Ridiculous.”

“I think you _doth protest too much_ , Mountanto,” Jaquie said, Costa giving a little gasp behind her. (“Jaquie! You theatre-d!”)

“I’m serious!” Benedick laughed, clinking his bottle against Costa’s, “this org’s been running on two leaders for a full _year_ and now it’s just little ol’ me, all by my lonesome, not even my _wife_ to talk to.”

“You could just call her,” Chelsey smirked.

“Like I said,” Ben put his hand over his heart and pouted, “all alone.”

“So get yourself a second in command,” Jaquie shrugged. She knew there were plenty of people out there who would kill (not literally, in this case) for the job. The opening of AQUITAINE had attracted a slew of interested, qualified spies to the area - Ben could have his pick of any of them.

“Jaquie Manders, you read my mind,” he nodded thoughtfully, holding out a hand to her, “how about it?”

“How about what?” she frowned.

“I want you to be my second in command.”

Jaquie froze, her drink threatening to topple out of her grasp.

“Mountanto,” she said slowly, “if you’re joking, I swear to god I’ll punch you in the throat.”

“I’m serious!” Benedick insisted, flinching away, “please don’t punch me.”

“Jaquie…” Paige whispered, a smile spreading across her lips, “oh my _god_.”

“If it weren’t for you, for _all_ of you really, we’d still be stuck on that mountain,” Benedick said, as the Worthies began piling around Jaquie in a group hug, “I’ve seen you work, I know you’re more than qualified. Hell, _I’m_ barely qualified for this job. Do you know how many forms I had to fill out this morning? _Three._ All before noon, what a life.”

“You… you’re not kidding,” Jaquie breathed, her mouth still hanging open.

“I’m completely serious, three whole forms.”

“Not about that, dummy!” she smacked him on the arm, a grin spreading across her face, “you really want me to be your second in command?”

“Yeah!” He said, returning her smile, “I know you’re still planning on going to that training program in the fall, and obviously that’s going to take priority, but the spot’s waiting for you when you come back.”

“I…” Jaquie wanted to say yes, her whole body was buzzing with excitement. Everything she’d been craving for months was finally in her grasp: the recognition she’d always wanted, the idea that she could change things at MESSINA, an office all to herself.

...All to herself.

“Worthies meeting,” she said. The rest of the Worthies exchanged surprised looks, and they scrambled to set down their drinks and huddle up.

“I’ll only take it if it’s okay with you guys,” Jaquie said. “I’m serious, I don’t want to do it if it’ll make things weird.”

They all stared at her, confused.

“Weird?” Paige asked, “what do you mean?”

“I just don’t want you guys to feel like I’m abandoning you,” Jaquie mumbled, biting her lip. “You guys… I mean, you’re like my best friends, or whatever.”

“Awww!” Chelsey cooed. Costa made a noise that could only be considered a _squeal_ , and they all enveloped her in a group hug.

“Stop,” Jaquie deadpanned, but she was grinning all the same.

“You’re our best friend too,” Chelsey said, squeezing her tight.

“We want you to do this, Jaquie,” Paige added, “it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“You’ll always be a Worthy to us,” Costa beamed.

“Well, I guess that’s settled then,” Jaquie said, running the back of her hand quickly over her eyes before turning to Ben. “Looks like I’m your second in command.”

“Fantastic,” Benedick said, shaking her hand enthusiastically. “First order of business, how good are you at using a fax machine?”

“Have you ever _been_ punched in the throat?”

 

-

 

Hero sat in the corner of AQUITAINE's ballroom, content to hang back and watch the exuberant crowd. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Beatrice so happy. Surrounded by the people she loved most, dancing to her favorite songs, she was completely in her element.

“Here you go,” a voice said from behind her, “one cup of strawberry punch for my favorite sister.”

“Thanks Leo,” Hero beamed, taking the bright drink from him.

He had phoned her unexpectedly that morning, panicked and with all his details mixed up (“is it true that Beatrice _blew up_ a drug lord?!”) but she’d quickly set him straight. She never would have imagined that he’d set foot at a spy party again, given all the trauma that he’d gone through when he left MESSINA. But there he was; catching up with old friends, dancing, and looking over at his cousin with pride.

“Can’t believe she’s in charge of this place now,” he said, taking a sip of his drink, “she really is cut out for this sort of thing, isn’t she?”

“Unlike me,” Hero tried to joke, but something in her voice made Leo turn his head sharply.

“Hero,” he said, “don’t do that to yourself.”

“No, I’m sorry, that came out wrong,” she said quickly, shaking her head.

“Hero, come on,” he pressed - he knew her too well. “What’s really bothering you?”

“I… I don’t know,” she sighed. “I’m glad I’m not at MESSINA anymore, really. I love my life now, with Bea and Ben back, and my job, but…” she paused, downing the rest of her punch. “I was so useless when they were all stuck up on that mountain.”

“That wasn’t your job,” Leo said firmly, “you were only supposed to stand in, no one could have predicted what would happen.”

“I know, but -”

“Hero,” he pressed forward, “I understand what it’s like to feel like everything it slipping out of your control. That’s practically every day at MESSINA. There was nothing you could do.”

“I could’ve gone with the others to rescue them,” She countered.

“Your job was to _stay here_ ,” Leo reminded her, “you couldn’t leave MESSINA without a leader. You did your job, Hero, and you did it well. You can’t run yourself ragged with ‘what if’ scenarios. Believe me… I’ve been there. It doesn’t end well.”

“I _know_ you’re right,” Hero said, and her voice broke, betraying her sadness, “I just… I wish I was _brave_ like she is.”

“Oh sis,” Leo wrapped an arm around her, “you _are_.”

“But -”

“You quit MESSINA,” he said. “That took a hell of a lot of bravery, more than I ever had. I should have left when Julie and I broke up, but I just… I couldn’t face it. And you know how it was when they fired me, I was a mess. But _you_ ,” he turned to face her, giving her shoulder a squeeze, “you were brave enough to step away, and look at you now.”  

“Leo…” Hero felt herself tearing up a little, and pulled her brother into a tight hug. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m proud of you, sis,” he said, ruffling her hair, “and you should be too.”

Hero let her memories wash over her: her first day of training, a year after Bea had already been hired on, two years after Leo had been dismissed from the company. It was where she’d met Meg, who walked right up to her that first day and said _“cute shoes - wanna be partners?”_

It was where she’d met Ursula, her first week, offering up half of her lunch when Hero realized she’d left hers at home. It was where she met Balthazar, who taught her how to play ukulele on slower days. It was where Bea and Ben had thrown her a surprise party, calling her at midnight on her birthday and claiming there was an emergency - she found glitter in her clothes for weeks after that. It was where Peter taught her the proper way to throw a punch (she’d gotten overzealous and accidentally knocked him flat on his back on the third try).

She had so many happy memories in the halls of MESSINA. She loved these people, truly - she just didn’t love the work. And maybe Leo was right. Maybe there was a certain kind of bravery in admitting that.

“Thanks, Leo.” She smiled up at him.

“Love you, Hero.”

“I love you too,” She said, giving him a playful shove, “even if you _are_ a big sap.”

 

-

 

Rosa leaned against the back wall as she sipped her martini, surveying the room. Balthazar and Peter were wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying to the music, caught up in their own little world (good for them, she supposed - her brother had been crushing on Peter for long enough). Paige took hold of Chelsey’s hand and tugged towards the door, giving her a quick kiss before they slipped away, unnoticed by anyone else. Jaquie and Costa were squabbling at the bar. Beatrice and Ben were standing on either side of the DJ, arguing over which song he should play next. Freddie and Kit laughed by the buffet table, Kit ducking away as Freddie tried to smear frosting across his cheek.

“Nauseatingly adorable, isn’t it?”

It was Meg, a drink in one hand, an enormous piece of cake in the other.

“Tell me about it,” Rosa rolled her eyes. “Thank god they all work in different organizations now. I think I’d take the avalanche again over sitting in a meeting with these lovebirds.”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” Meg shrugged, holding out her cake, “want a bite?”

“No, thanks,” Rosa declined with a shake of her head, “wouldn’t want to take that away from you. You seem like you’re enjoying nutritional freedom.”

“Oh my god, it’s heaven,” Meg smiled, taking a big forkful.

The two women stood in silence for a minute, looking out over the crowd.

“So, Freddie and Kit,” Meg said eagerly, swallowing her cake, “ _totally_ random, right?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Rosa put a hand up to her temple, shaking her head, “how is nobody else talking about this?”

“Right?!” Meg cried, “It’s like, I know the avalanche kind of threw everybody off or whatever, but _seven months_?! And not _one_ of us noticed?”

“He was _my_ partner, and I thought he hated her!” Rosa continued, “he always avoided talking to her, I just assumed… oh my god, and all those times he worked late? Bullshit.”

“I don’t… I can’t even begin to understand,” Meg said seriously, “I mean, they’re both lovely people, but _Freddie Kingston_ and _Kitso Harper_? How were they even on each other’s radars? I’m not convinced they’re even from the same _planet._ ”

“Opposites attract, I guess,” Rosa shrugged, “like, there was this one woman I hooked up with in Italy, who…” She trailed off, thinking better of it. “Well, the point is, I’ve seen it happen.”

“I would never have guessed it,” Meg looked across the room at the two of them, completely wrapped up in each other’s gaze, “but they look _happy,_ so -”  

“I’ll bet they’ve had sex in the office,” Rosa interrupted, taking a sip of her drink, “I’d bet you a hundred dollars.”

“No thank you,” Meg laughed, taking a big bite of cake, “because I’m _definitely_ going to lose that bet.”

The music changed to something with more of a beat, and Meg jumped up excitedly, setting down her drink and plate.

“I hate this song,” Rosa wrinkled her nose.

“I love this song,” Meg grinned, grabbing Rosa by both hands. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“I don’t dance,” Rosa protested, but Meg was not about to take no for an answer.

“Rosa Jones, you are my friend and teammate, and your happiness is important to me,” She said, “but trust me when I tell you that if you don’t suck it up, admit you’re having a good time, and dance along with me to this one song, I will blare The Spice Girls outside of your office every day for the next year and a half.”

“Oh dear god,” Rosa recoiled, setting her drink down on the table next to Meg’s, “okay _fine,_ we can dance!”

“Yay!” Meg gave a little hop, then pushed Rosa towards the middle of the dance floor. “Step aside everyone, Queens are coming through!”

 

-

 

“Kit, _may_ I smear this frosting on your face?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm? Didn’t catch that,” Freddie giggled, aiming a handful of the stuff straight at his cheek. He dodged it, catching her hand and leaning in to kiss her on the forehead instead.

“Agent Harper, we’re at a _business event_ ,” she said, feigning shock, “if we’re not careful, someone’s going to find out about us.”

“We’re very sneaky,” he grinned, scooping up some frosting with his finger and smudging it on her nose, “they’ll never figure it out.”

She smiled, wrinkling her frosting-covered nose, and tilted her head up to kiss him.

“Ha-HA!” She cried, pulling away just as he leaned in, smearing the frosting across his face, covering his lips and chin. “Got you!”

“Excellent use of those spy skills,” He commended, licking some of it off.

“Element of surprise,” She said, grinning proudly and wiggling her frosting-covered fingers at him, “never fails.”

Kit passed her a napkin and took a few for himself, wiping what was left off of his face as Freddie cleaned off her nose and hands. She was so happy to be there with him, happy that they didn’t have to hide their feelings from anyone anymore.

“I’m going to miss seeing you every day,” he said, and then froze, glancing nervously at Freddie. The playful air between them seemed to disappear completely. “Sorry. Was that too much?”

“Kit, of _course_ it wasn’t,” Freddie shook her head, springing up on her toes to kiss him. “I’m going to miss seeing you every day, too. Oh! Which reminds me...” she reached into her purse, “I’ve been meaning to give this back to you.”

Kit brightened at her words.

“My key to your apartment?” he guessed, “I kept forgetting to ask for that back.”

“Actually, I was thinking about it,” She pressed the silver key into his hand, letting herself linger there, her fingers brushing against his wrist, “and I was hoping… that it could be the key to _our_ apartment.”

The corners of Kit’s lips twitched upwards, his eyes bright and hopeful.

“You’re asking me to move in?”

“We wouldn’t have to miss seeing each other every day,” She explained, “because we’d start and end every day together.”

Kit stared down at the key, not speaking, and Freddie felt herself getting anxious.

“Plus, you know, it just makes sense,” she rambled, “we get along, we keep the same schedule, we could carpool, so that’s… that’s good for the environment.”

“Freds, you don’t have to sell me on this,” he laughed. His face broke out into a full on smile, and Freddie was sure it lit up the whole room. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

She sighed with relief as Kit pulled her in, winding his arms around her waist. When he kissed her, she was struck by how overwhelmingly happy she was. Kitso Harper loved her, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

 

-

 

“All I’m saying is, a mascot would really liven up the place,” Benedick argued, leaning against a table with his arms crossed. “Imagine people walk through the front doors, past all the security scanners, and the first thing they see is a statue of a magnificent –”

“If you say flamingo, I’m kicking you out of my party,” Beatrice said, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t get a _flamingo_!” Ben cried, “That’s MESSINA’s mascot!”

“MESSINA doesn’t have a mascot!”

“ _Yet_.”

“Oh my god,” she sighed, but the smile on her face gave her away. “I guess it’s a good thing I got out of there when I had the chance.”

Ben’s smile shifted, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared absently around the ballroom.

“MESSINA’s not going to be the same without you,” he said gently, reaching for her hand, tapping her bracelet with his thumb. “I don’t know what it’s going to be.”

Beatrice tightened her fingers around his, wishing for the millionth time that month that she had an answer. A year ago, she’d been devastated when Ben left MESSINA. She’d been so lonely at her desk, staring over at his and thinking he would never sit there again. They’d been MESSINA’s best team, Lady Disdain and Signor Mountanto up against the world, and she’d hated him for abandoning her.

“Is this ridiculous?” She asked, biting her lip, “AQUITAINE, I mean.”

“Oh, definitely,” Benedick answered, taking a sip of his drink.

“No, Ben I’m serious,” she pressed, “am I making a huge mistake by leaving? I’ve never run a company before, I’ve never been in charge of _anyone_. Freddie knows so much more than me about business, and even _she_ messed up as leader. What if I make the same mistakes? What if I can’t work without you? Is this all worth it?”

“Whoa, Beatrice,” Ben set his drink down, taking both of her hands, “these are the questions you ask yourself _before_ the party.”

“Ben, I swear –”

“Of _course_ it’s worth it,” he said, squeezing her hands in his, “this is your dream, Bea. You think I have any idea what I’m doing? You think any of us do? Peter was trained all his life to lead this place, and he stepped down. Freddie didn’t plan on dating anyone for _years_. Costa went from watching surveillance footage to saving all our lives with a _grappling hook_. We’re all just… we’re faking it ‘til we make it.”

Beatrice felt a grin spread across her face as he spoke. This was the man that she had chosen, so kind and ridiculous and _alive_ that it made her heart flip just to be around him.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, nudging her forehead against his. “And I love you.”

“I’m the one who should be proud,” Ben mumbled, “you had the guts to start an entirely new organization, even when your no good husband tried to get in the way.”

“He came around, in the end,” she shrugged.

“And he’s very glad he did. And he loves you across the stars and back,” Benedick added, leaning in to kiss her.

“I’m gonna miss sitting on your desk,” Bea sighed as they broke apart, “and I’m going to miss throwing you notes.”

“I’m going to miss seeing you in the hallways,” Benedick added.

“And making faces when people say weird things.”

“Driving into work together.”

“Just _being_ together, all the time,” Beatrice said, her eyes widening. “God, when was the last time we spent a day apart?” Ben put on a face like he was thinking, but she didn’t buy it for a second.

“I _think_ , don’t quote me on this, but I’m pretty sure it was that one time when we were separated in the Swiss Alps.”

“You’re the worst,” Bea rolled her eyes again, but they both knew she didn’t mean it.

“Bea, I promise you,” Ben said, running his thumb along the back of her hand, “you could absolutely do this without me. You’re amazing.”

“I  _could_ ,” she replied, “that doesn’t mean I want to.”

And the more she thought about it, the more she realized; it was going to take a lot more than separate organizations to tear them apart. It certainly hadn’t worked the first time.

“You know,” Benedick said, his eyes bright, “whatever we do during the day, we’ll always find our way back to each other after work.”

“We’ll always find our way back to each other, _period_ ,” Beatrice beamed, and she pulled him into another kiss.

 

-

 

Freddie couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Beatrice nervously straightening her dress and smoothing her hair, preparing to go up and make her speech. It was hard to believe that almost three months ago, she’d been in the exact same situation. If someone had told Freddie then that she would come to respect and befriend the two runaway spies who had crashed her party and ruined her speech, she would’ve laughed in their face. She might’ve punched them, even, given how angry she’d been.  

“Are you nervous?” She asked, going over to join her.

“ _Yes_ ,” Beatrice admitted, nodding furiously, “completely.”

“Don’t be.” Freddie put a supportive hand on Bea’s shoulder. “You’re going to be great. Everyone in this room is here because they love you and want you to succeed. We’re all rooting for you, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“Thanks, Freddie,” Bea said gratefully, “that means a lot.”

“No problem,” Freddie smiled, “you ready?”

“Yeah,” Beatrice nodded again, taking a deep breath, “let’s do this.”

They walked up to the podium together, Beatrice grabbing a glass of wine from a passing waiter on the way.

“Solid choice,” Freddie said, approvingly, “trust me, give it five minutes and you won’t feel nervous at all.”

“That’s the goal,” she said, tilting her head back and downing the glass all at once.

Beatrice went to stand behind Freddie as she took the podium with both hands, looking out over the crowded AQUITAINE ballroom. Benedick, who had recently proclaimed himself her “ _bro for life_ ,” was talking animatedly to Jaquie, his hands waving around in excitement. The rest of the Worthies (whose positions were in the process of being augmented now that company wide surveillance was out the window) were all dancing together in the center of the room, drawing Rosa and Meg in with them. Freddie had been making an effort to talk to them every day, to get to know the people who were responsible for saving all their lives.

And Kitso. _Her_ Kitso, the man she loved, the man who _apparently_ found dorky dancing to be among her most attractive traits, he was leaning back against a table, beaming brightly at her. He shot her a thumbs up as they locked eyes, and she felt something warm glow in the pit of her stomach. When this was over, when the party wound down and everyone started to leave, she and Kit were going back to _their_ apartment.

It felt like all the pieces of her life were starting to fall together, in a way she’d never imagined. The plan she and her grandmother had made, the plans Freddie always had for herself – they never included this. Deliberately walking away from her role as leader, falling in love with an employee, falling in love at _all_ …

She never thought she could have that kind of happiness. She never thought she’d _want_ it.

Staring out across the room, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever felt so _loved._ So maybe she didn’t have a plan for the next thirty years anymore. Hell, she didn’t even have a plan for the next _year_ anymore. But for the first time in her life, she felt like she had a real family. She felt like she belonged. She felt like she was _home_.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to bask in the glow of that feeling for one fleeting moment, then she took a deep breath and addressed the crowd.

“Friends, loved ones, honored guests,” She began, “we are here today to celebrate the grand opening of –”

**_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._ **

Before she could get another word out, red lights started flashing, and an a ear-splitting alarm flooded the room.

“Just _once_ ,” She grumbled to herself, “just _once_ , could I get through a speech?”

Beatrice snatched the mic from her hands immediately, addressing the crowd.

“Hey, we’ve loved having you all, but duty calls!” she announced cheerily. “So if you could all make your way to the exits just as quick as you can, and would members of MESSINA and AQUITAINE please meet me in the conference room? That’d be wonderful, Lady Disdain out.”

She took hold of Freddie’s arm, pulling her away from the podium and down into the chaos of the crowd.

“This way! Just right through there, thank you so much for coming,” she saw Hero instructing, shuffling the crowd along like they were all her preschoolers, “yes, it’s that way to the exit. So sorry about the disruption!”

“Bea, what the hell _is_ that?” Benedick asked, coming up beside them.

“That alarm only goes off if headquarters needs to get in contact with us _immediately_ ,” Beatrice explained, as Freddie felt someone take hold of her hand – Kit. “It’s a new system we had implemented last week.”

“Well, we’re definitely getting one at MESSINA,” Benedick said, staring up at the flashing alarms, “this is _awesome_.”

They slipped their way through the crowd, Beatrice pausing to give Hero and Leo grateful hugs as they ushered out the non-employees.

“Sorry, just wondering,” Costa asked tentatively, as Meg pushed her way through the crowded room, “is this a _spies only_ thing?”

“You heard the lady,” Meg said, grabbing Costa by the arm and dragging him along with her, “she said _all employees_.” Costa beamed, delighted, and grabbed Chelsey by the arm, who then grabbed Paige, forming a chain.

The conference room had one sleek chrome table in the center, twelve chairs surrounding it. Everyone filed into a seat, the few who hadn’t toured AQUITAINE’s facility before gaping up at the enormous computer screen on the back wall. Beatrice reached over and pressed a button in the console on the center of the table, and the black screen lit up, revealing four women, each wearing matching blazers with cursive letters embroidered on the lapel.

“Are _those_ the higher ups?” Chelsey whispered. “I’ve never seen them before!”

“Yep,” Benedick nodded, “they’re the ones who founded MESSINA.”

“Remember that time I was assigned to kill Benedick?” Beatrice said. “You’ve got them to thank for that. Well, them and Peter.”

“That was _one time_ ,” Peter grumbled.

“So,” Benedick beamed up at the screen, the four women peering down at them, “what’s our next adventure?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Love is not love  
> Which alters when it alteration finds,  
> Or bends with the remover to remove.  
> O no, it is an ever-fixed mark  
> That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
> It is the star to every wand'ring bark,  
> Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken."
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and making the journey to the end with us! All our love (and some of Shakespeare's) goes out to you. 
> 
> -Grace and Louisa


End file.
